Annie Greer Saga
by NotTasha
Summary: Series of stories about young Ezra and his time spent with the Widow Greer. Updated and expanded, with a new story added as Chapter 6
1. Annie Greer's Brand New Boy Child

**_RATING:_** _G  
_ _ **SUMMARY**_ _: A slice of Ezra's past. Maude drops Ezra on the doorstep of a widow. They cope  
_ _ **CATEGORY**_ _: Challenge - OW - Little Ezra - Annie Greer Saga  
_ _ **MAJOR CHARACTERS:**_ _Little Ezra and an OFC  
_ _ **DISCLAIMERS:**_ _This is fanfiction. No profit involved. This story is based on the television series "The Magnificent Seven". No infringement upon the copyrights held by CBS, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp. or any others involved with that production is intended._

 ** _AWARDS:_** _Winner of the 2006 Mistresses Of Malarkey "Best Gen Series" Award and 'Perfect' Award_

 ** _NOTE:_** _the first Annie Greer story was posted February 12, 2003. It was the answer to a challenge offered by Lady Catherine at the Mag7 Challenge site: to write a story with a three-dimensional female character that is not a Mary Sue. Annie Greer was my attempt to do just that. This series involves an OFC and young Ezra, many years before we came to know him._

 **The Annie Greer Saga – Part 1**

 **Annie Greer's Brand New Boy Child**  
 _By NotTasha_

* * *

Annie Greer fussed and fretted about her house, not knowing what to do anymore. She had swept and mopped the floors, had scrubbed the kitchen and dusted everything – a thorough spring-cleaning in a mild April. The sun had illumined clouds of dust motes as she'd stirred them with her work.

She felt excited. A flush came to her cheeks, and she held her hands up to them, expecting heat. Her heart seemed to beat a little faster. She had pulled back the draperies and the house was bright for the first time in years – chasing the shadows away. Her drab little world, closed off for so many years, finally found some light.

She didn't deserve such good luck.

The day was growing late as she bustled upstairs and into the nursery for the umpteenth time that day, making sure everything was just perfect. For so many years, it had been only a sewing room. It was strange to see it back to its original purpose, all clean and perfect and ready for its inhabitant.

She picked up the little rattle and shook it experimentally, giggling at the sound it made. She felt giddy. Oh! In a matter of a few minutes, a little hand would clasp that rattle. Finally!

She touched the crib, running her hand along the oak rail and remembering how she and her husband had chosen it all those years ago. They had been so proud, so excited. They hadn't been able to stop themselves from coming to this room in those early months. His arms would wrap around her and she would lean into him. She'd always felt so safe with him – so absolutely safe. He was so strong, so absolutely solid and perfect.

She settled one hand on her neck as she remembered how his chin had rested there, the tickle of his mustache, the scent of his tobacco, how his voice had sounded in her ear as he spoke of all the things to come.

With an intake of breath, she recalled how he'd held her on the day when her world had come crashing down. Three months shy - she'd been too weak to bring the child to the world. He'd soothed her, cocooned her in his strength, in his warmth and comfort and love, allaying her fears, putting her self-accusations to rest. And he made more promises - promises of things that never came to pass.

A simple accident - a missed a step as he walked home from work – a tremulous message delivered to her door – and it was over. Her life ended the day they told her that her husband had struck his head and never breathed again.

Blinking at the memories, Annie forced herself back to the present. No tears, she told herself, blotting at her eyes with her handkerchief. No tears!

Today, a promise would be realized. The crib had only been a shape covered with a blanket for years. When she'd pulled the coverlet away yesterday morning, the cloud of dust had shocked her. How had so much dirt come to reside there? Certainly, she was a better housekeeper than that!

She'd cleaned and primped. She'd moved out all of her notions and fabric, but the heavy table and the sewing machine would have to wait until she could hire a boy to move it.

The colors of the fabric had startled her. She had grown so used to black, she'd forgotten that she'd once purchased blue, and green and yellow. Had she actually worn those bright colors? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

She'd found the little things she'd sewn, the wee clothing she's knitted and then stored away - boxed up and hidden so that she wouldn't have to be reminded. Here were the shirts, the petticoats, the pilches, the frocks and the little caps, nightgowns and plenty of diapers - all waiting for a newcomer that never came - until now.

Her eyes delighted in the sight of these things, envisioning how she'd dress up the new baby like a doll and carry it in her arms. Breathing in deeply, she imagined the scent of the infant - they always smelt so sweet and perfect - fresh from heaven. She'd be a good mother – she would – she hoped.

The child would be all her own. Something she could love forever. A little life that would grow up and flourish under her careful watch.

Nervous, she looked to a small gown that she'd knitted over five years ago. So soft and sweet! She remembered sitting in their parlor with her needles, making the little garment with her own hands as Harry read his newspaper, watching over her. She remembered his blue eyes and his smile.

With a careful hand, she draped the gown over the edge of the crib so that it would be ready.

She couldn't sit still! She hadn't found any sleep since yesterday. A buzzing excitement filled her.

With a quick motion, she turned, leaving the room to walk down the stairs and into the dining room, where the tin bathtub waited, with its softest washcloth, tiny towels and a cake of white Windsor soap. The baby-chair sat beside the table; on the tray were the little cup and bowl, the small spoon. She touched the items tenderly, pushing them apart and then setting them again in perfect formation. He'd be too young for these, most likely, but it was good to see them out again. The chair had been stored inside the crib for so long that she'd forgotten how it looked. It was like buying it 'new' all over again.

Her tea set waited - ready for company. The new bottle rested on the counter and extra milk had been delivered this morning. She'd have to raise the baby by hand, but that was only a small hurdle. Other than that, it would be exactly as if she'd had the child herself.

Unable to improve the dining room, she headed to the parlor. The pianoforte took up one corner of the room, and the rest was filled with the pretty furniture that she'd picked out with Harold.

Harold - she turned to the photograph that took a place of honor on the piano. She smiled as she gazed upon his sepia image. The man in the photo was box-jawed, with light hair and a carefully trimmed mustache. He had regarded the world with a look of intelligence, kindness and fortitude.

"Harry," she whispered as she approached the photograph. "I'm so excited…I…I did something," she bit her lip. "I did something peculiar and…" She glanced away, as if she couldn't meet his eyes. "Oh, you'd be so surprised, Harry. You'd be amazed. You wouldn't think I had it in me."

With a small smile, and still not looking at the photo, she uttered, "We're having a baby, Harry - just like we always wanted, just like before, except this time… this time it's for sure. I won't do something wrong. He's coming today."

Her gaze traveling, she caught sight of herself in the hallway mirror. She was short and slim, with mousy brown hair done up in a bun. Her eyes, framed in spectacles, were too small and close, and her face was too plain to be pretty. What had Harold seen in her?

She smoothed her faded black dress petulantly and then turned back to the image of her husband. "I know I've been keeping it a secret from you. You'll think I'm so silly. You'll think I'm foolish, but I met this woman three days ago. She walked by as I was sweeping the front porch. We talked, Harry, and she was very sweet. She does wonderful things for little babies. She takes them in when no one else wants them and finds new homes – good homes. She's almost a saint! And we talked about things. It was almost like she already knew me."

Annie played with the dark sash on her dress. "I don't know how we came to the subject, but she told me she could find a child for me. She just needed a small fee and she'd bring me one." Still fiddling with the cloth, she uttered, "I got a message from her yesterday that she'd found a boy – for us." She looked at the picture again, seeing the strong features, the pleasant smile and the eyes that had once been blue. "Just like we wanted, Harry, a boy. She's bringing him today. It'll be like he was our own. He must be just-born because he doesn't even have a name yet. I was thinking that I'd name him after you."

With a silly laugh she continued, "I don't know how I'll explain it to everyone. Maybe they'll believe it's a miracle! Me…with a baby. But, we'll make it work, won't we, Harry?" she implored the photograph that remained mute - as it had for five years. "They won't think it's odd that I adopted, will they?"

"He'll be so tiny, so sweet," Annie continued. She formed a cradle with her arms. "It will feel so good to finally hold a baby of my very own." Her arms had felt so empty all these years, her heart vacant. "I have so many things to teach him. I can't wait to tell him stories, to feed him, to put on his little shoes, to tuck him in at night, to watch him take his first steps. And his first word will be 'mama', but he'll always know that you are his papa." She smiled sadly, thinking of all the lost years, imagining what her own child might have looked like now.

There was a sharp rap on the door, drawing a surprised gasp from the widow. She turned toward the mirror to ensure that she looked as good as she could and then moved to the entryway. Through the glass, she could see the pretty, blonde woman.

Maude Severt, the woman from the orphanage, smiled brightly under her gay hat. Feeling almost faint in anticipation, Annie pulled open the door.

"Hello, Mrs. Greer, dear," Maude greeted brightly. "Today's your big day, isn't it?"

Annie's eyes greedily glanced about, looking for the little bundle that would hold her newborn child, looking for a pram - a carriage - a basket. Instead, there was just Maude and a boy. The boy, about nine-years-old, stood stiffly on her front porch, with a carpetbag at his feet. He gave her a glance and then looked toward Mrs. Severt as if seeking direction, but Maude didn't look down.

He was a messenger, Annie decided. The boy would fetch the baby once the transaction was completed. Certainly, they wouldn't be hauling her new child about when everything wasn't official yet.

"Please, Mrs. Severt, come inside," Annie invited. "I'll make tea and…"

The smile continued to glow on Maude's cheery face. "Oh dearie, I'm sorry, but I have no time. There are so many stops to be made. Everyone is interested in adopting little ones today and I can't leave them waiting, now can I?"

"No, of course not," Annie responded, knowing how anxious her own wait had been. The sooner she had her baby, the better.

"Please, if you have my fee, I can give you the paperwork and we'll be done."

"Oh," Annie responded. "Yes, of course." She turned to the hall table and picked up the envelope she'd prepared. "$300. It's exactly as you requested."

"Of course it is, darling," Maude responded, receiving the money and opening the envelope to look inside. She pulled a folded paper from her handbag and handed it to Annie without looking at her - her attention was still reserved for counting the money. "And here's your documentation."

Holding the paper close to her poor eyes, Annie studied the legal wording of the document. "Do I sign?" she asked, as Maude shoved the envelope into her handbag.

"Yes, yes," the woman said. "And fill in his name when you've decided on it. I've already signed and it was witnessed at the orphanage. Everything is in order." She gave the boy a shove - presumably to get him to fetch the baby, but the boy picked up the carpet bag and stepped forward into her doorway instead of turning to get his charge. He cast another glance at Mrs. Severt, as if he sought something, and then faced forward.

"He'll behave himself, I hope," she continued. "I'll be back in a month or so to check up on how you're doing. Good-day." And with that, Maude Severt turned abruptly and started down the path toward the gate.

Annie glanced down at the boy, meeting his green eyes. He didn't seem to be budging. A shock of realization came to her and she rushed down the walkway after the woman. "Wait! Wait!"

Maude bustled even faster, reaching the gate and stepping through it. "A deal's a deal, Mrs. Greer," she said, pulling the gate shut behind her.

"A baby! You promised me a baby!" Annie cried, and then sucked in her breath in fear that her neighbors would hear. "A baby," she whispered as she gripped the gate.

"I made no such promise," Maude drawled with disdain. "You must have misinterpreted my meanin'."

Annie's jaw dropped disbelief. "But you told me…"

"I promised to deliver a boy child to your door, and I have. He will behave in a reasonable fashion, I assure you. If he is unruly, don't blame me. I've taught him only the best manners. Now, good day," And she bustled off at a pace that was too quick to be called lady-like.

Annie trembled at the gate, her hands gripping the wood. The terror of leaving her home caught her, as it always did since her Harold passed, and she could only follow the woman's departure with her gaze. She wanted to shout and demand her return, but she was too timid, too quiet, too good. She lowered her head, feeling the tears come again. Lord, she wouldn't let the people on the street see her like this, she just couldn't!

She turned and treaded back to her house, slowing as she caught sight of the boy with the carpetbag still waiting there. He wasn't looking at her. Rather, his gaze trailed Mrs. Severt.

What was she supposed to do with him? Good Gracious! She had a son - not an infant, not a toddler that she could mold and teach – but a boy. Boys are noisy – dirty – naughty! If they're not brought up right, they'll be unmanageable hooligans, like those boys down at the end of Post Street.

Stiffly, the boy turned his attention to her and waited for her return.

"Well," Annie said, forcing a smile. She pulled her handkerchief from her sleeve and daubed at her eyes. What was she supposed to do now? They faced each other, strangers – mother and son.

"I suppose I could show you to your room," she said, because she didn't know what else would be appropriate.

The child nodded and picked up his valise. "Yes, ma'am," he responded quietly.

 _Ma'am_ , should he be calling her that? "I'm your mother now," Annie said as she led the boy into the house. "You should call me ' _mama'_."

The boy cringed and uttered, "Perhaps not."

"Oh," Annie said, startled by this imprudent reply. Her hand rested on the stair rail as she turned toward the boy. His gaze was even and defiant. Already she was failing at this. Not call her _mama_? She felt like crawling into a hole.

"Okay, well." She fretted on the stairway, watching the boy's somber and unwavering expression. "This way," she said because she couldn't think of anything else. She turned and headed up the stairs, her face drawn as she considered this new fact - that her new son didn't want to call her 'mama'. _Gracious!_

She led him to the upstairs room that had always been reserved for a child. Her heart sank as she gazed into the _baby's room_. "I'm afraid the bed isn't quite right," she uttered, looking at the crib. "I thought…"

"She led you to believe you were getting a baby," the boy summed up.

"I must have misunderstood," Annie told him. "My fault. It _must_ have been my fault. I'm so silly. I can't do anything on my own."

The boy set his valise down and nodded. "It's what she led you to believe." He sighed as he appraised the too-small bed.

"There's a bed in the other room. I'll have them switched." She seemed to brighten. "Yes, that'll work. Nobody uses it anyway. We meant to have guests all the time, but…" she stopped talking, not wanting to think of the past.

The boy nodded, not bothered by the cut-off sentence, his eyes straying to the stenciled hearts and roses she'd painted shortly after her marriage.

Following his gaze, Annie continued, "Or I'll move my sewing things back in here."

The boy nodded again, not seeming to care either way. And they were both silent again.

Annie, nervous in the silence, looked at the document that Maude had handed to her. She held the paper close, squinting through her glasses. The page was filled with official sounding words that seemed to say she was now 'mother' of a child yet to be named. The ink so fresh it smudged to her touch.

"The name is blank," Annie stated. "Why didn't they fill in your name?"

The boy shrugged. "I suppose it's Greer now," he stated.

Pursing her lips at that thought, she continued, "But your first name isn't there. What's your Christian name?"

His voice was soft as he said, "Whatever you want."

"You don't have a name?" Annie stated, her voice high with disbelief.

"Well," the child drawled, "I've been called any of a number of things. Those that are repeatable include, Daniel, Milton, Edward, Eric, Antoine, Robert and - Ezra. I suppose you can chose from any of them - or come up with one of your own. One is as good as another." He spoke with a southern accent that didn't seem to come from anywhere in particular.

Annie frowned and her voice became even higher as she declared, "You can't be serious?"

The boy sighed. "Call me whatever you want, it doesn't matter."

Annie stalked away, out of the nursery, down the stairs and toward the front door, wondering if she could catch up to Maude before she got too far. But, as her hand touched the doorknob, she knew that she couldn't. She trembled at the thought of charging down the street in her mourning clothes to find the brightly-dressed woman. What would the neighbors think?

Years ago, she might have been able to do that. In her youth, she would have been capable. Her mother and father took good care of her, sheltering her and ensuring that nothing ever hurt her. Then there was Harold. Oh, she'd always been shy, quiet – but there was a time when she was capable of walking down the street on her own. She trembled as she held the doorknob and hated her weakness.

She turned to find the nameless boy behind her. They stared at each other, the boy's gaze was direct and calm, and she was certain she shook under his scrutiny.

He blinked and looked away, sighing softly as his eyes studied the hardwood flooring.

Well, Annie decided, this was her boy now. She could name him, couldn't she? Maybe it was like naming a cat, a dog. She'd had a cat named Patches when she as a girl. But her mother had named the animal – and the cat used to bite.

Harry! She was going to name her child after her husband, but he looked nothing like Harry. Could this boy be a Harold Greer, Jr.? Would she be able to raise him in the image of her beloved husband? She could start. She could try. She'd make this work. But, it would help to know something about the boy.

After clearing her throat, Annie asked, "Were you in the orphanage long?"

He snorted, and then perhaps remembered his manners as he responded, "No, ma'am."

"Oh, so your parents died recently?" she asked tenderly. "I'm so sorry."

The boy raised his eyes and smiled sheepishly. "It's a bit more complicated."

"Oh." Annie didn't know how to respond to that. "Did Mrs. Severt tell you anything about me?"

The boy shrugged. "She told me you were willin' to pay." He looked embarrassed as he commented, "Look, you seem like a nice lady, and I hate to tell you this, but that paper she gave you means nothing. She doesn't work at an orphanage. She doesn't save poor waifs from a life in the street. You see, she's found a mark." He paused and illustrated, "A man with plenty of money and no wife. She will make him her husband - and a child is only an anchor when she's working a deal. She needs the freedom move quickly, to be properly courted. Once she's taken him for all he's worth, she'll come back to claim me."

"What do you mean? Is she your mother?"

He nodded solemnly. "She'll be back in a month or so and take me off your hands. You'll undoubtedly be tired of me by then." He shrugged again. "She's done this before."

Her mouth opened, but she didn't know what to say. Her world was tipping over – first, she thought she was the mother of an infant, then she was disappointed to find she was the mother of a half-grown child. Now, to find she didn't even have that – she felt lightheaded.

Annie looked out the window in the direction that Maude had gone. "She can't be your mother."

He winced, realizing that he'd revealed something he'd have preferred kept silent. "She is," the boy replied. "Indeed she is."

"Don't tell lies!" Annie spat out. He was just pulling a prank on her! Certainly, this was a joke on his part. "A mother wouldn't leave her son like this!"

He took a step back. "She does," he replied.

His quiet admission was too heartfelt to be a lie _. Oh Lord, it was true_. Her eyes began to tear again as she realized that she'd never be a mother - not ever.

Seeing the defeated look on Annie's face, the boy said, "Really, she will be back. You can get rid of me then."

The widow, not knowing what else to do, wandered back toward the kitchen, wringing the handkerchief in her hands. "What am I going to do? I'm stupid. I can't believe I fell for such a wretched scheme. What am I going to do with this boy? Oh, Harry, if only you were here."

She sat down heavily in one of the dining room chairs. "Harry, oh, Harry. How can I be so foolish?" She wept, wishing she could take back that day and never talk to the southern woman who had passed her house. When Mrs. Severt approached, Annie's first thought had been to shrink back into the shadows, but the stranger had seemed so sweet, so bewilderingly open.

"I'm such a fool, Harry. Oh, why did you leave me all alone? I can't do anything on my own!"

She sat with her face in her hands, crying into her handkerchief, upset with her stupidity and naiveté. She thought she might have been happy again, thought she might finally have the family she'd longed for - a baby of her own. Instead, she'd been _'taken'_ by an unscrupulous woman and ended up with a boy as a lodger.

After a spell, she lifted her head and looked around. The house was perfectly still. "Boy?" she called, and felt stupid for calling him that. But what else was there? "Boy?" .

There was no answer, so she went looking. She picked up the 'adoption' paper from where it had fallen in the hallway and kept looking.

He had returned to the nursery – his assigned room - and sat with his back against the wall and his carpetbag clutched in his lap. His face was blank. His gaze slowly traveled to meet her face. He looked so lost.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, drying her eyes as she entered the room. "I didn't mean to leave you."

"It's okay," the child responded. "It's not your fault. Mother - she makes things happen. I'm sorry you were caught up in it." The boy sighed. "I'm sorry that this had to happen to you. You're not the first one she's tricked, but usually she has to pay someone to take me - not the other way around."

Annie could only nod.

The boy kept talking, as if it was a comfort to him, "She's busy, you see. She has places to go and…" He clutched the carpetbag to his chest. "There was no room for me. I'd be in the way. I can be quite a burden. She'll be back, I swear. She always comes back. She does love me."

"And she just left you here? Not knowing anything about me?" Annie asked.

"She's good at reading people. She does her best to find good places for me. She researches, you know. Sometimes her choices aren't the best but…" Seeing the bewildered look on the woman's face, he continued, "If you don't want me, I can go. I can find someplace." He looked toward the door, but didn't move.

"No, no, you'll stay. We'll make this work." She smiled, trying to look warm and inviting. "It'll be nice."

The boy nodded, seeming amazingly familiar with the decidedly odd situation.

She sat down on the floor beside the boy and asked quietly, "Let's stop this foolishness. What would you like me to call you?"

The boy dipped his head, seeming to study the pattern on his carpetbag. "Ezra," he said softly, as if making the admission was a crime. "My name is Ezra. Mother says it's better to remain nameless though. Nameless is blameless."

"Ezra," she smiled at the name. "You can call me …" She paused as she considered the alternatives. He didn't want to call her 'mama' and it really didn't seem appropriate now. She had ended up with a temporary boy, not a son. When people asked, could she honestly tell them that a woman had dropped the child at her doorstep with false adoption papers? What would they say? No, no she couldn't do that!

"Aunt Anne," she finally decided. Her expression changed as she said, "No, that won't work. People know I have no family left. Mama died when I was twelve, and Papa shortly after I married Mr. Greer."

"What about Mr. Greer's family?" Ezra asked. "You can say I'm related to him."

At the mention of the man, Annie responded quickly, "Oh no, that will never do. I couldn't do that to Harry. He was a good man."

The boy licked his lips as he looked away. "You could say that I was 'remotely' related."

She considered it, and finally said, "I can't lie, Ezra. He had no brothers or sisters."

Ezra contemplated and then said, "I think mother has some relations somewhere named Greer. Maybe we're related somehow."

Astonished, Annie asked, "Truly? She's related to Harold? She can't be! Not a woman like that!"

"Might be. Everyone's related in one way or another." Seeing the skeptical look that Annie gave him, the boy continued, "If someone presses the subject, just tell them you'd rather not talk about it. That covers a wealth of evils."

"They'll think the worst if I say that!" Annie put in. "That makes it sound like someone might have had a child out of wedlock. They might think that you're a…" she stopped herself before she could say the foul word.

Ezra nodded and didn't seem too bothered by this fact.

"People will talk," Annie told him, feeling overwhelmed.

"Let them," Ezra replied. "They talk all the time. It would be best if you ignored their gossip."

She pressed her hands to her cheeks, wondering if she blushed. "Oh, that's the sort of thing Harry always said to me." She remembered Harry calming her all the time. She could still picture his face, remember the sound of his voice, recall his scent, the way he walked, the way he smiled. He was so wise, so kind, so perfect – how could he be gone?

 _"Now, Annie, my love, make no notice of them."_

But they will notice. People will ask questions and she'll have to own up to her stupid mistake. They'll laugh at her, no doubt and say horrible things. She felt her breath quicken as she tried to figure out what to do next.

How could she possibly deal with this situation? If only Harry was with her, she could manage – if she wasn't so alone.

Tears came to her again as she felt the weight of her loneliness, the absence of her beloved Harry. "Why did he have to leave me? I can't do this without you! I just can't!"

Standing quickly, she left the nursery, memories overwhelmed her and she flung herself into her own room.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

It was dark when she woke. How could she have fallen asleep? She lifted her head from the comforter and looked around. The room was cold and she was alone – again – always alone.

She sat up, realizing she was a mess, her dress wrinkled and her hair out of place. What would Harry say if she saw her like this? What would he say if he knew she'd gone to her room like a little girl when she had a guest in the house? Patting her face, she sat up with a start.

 _Oh Lord, that boy!_

She lit a lamp and shuffled to her feet. The house was dark as she crept out into it.

The door to her guestroom was open, but the lamp showed nothing on the bed besides the yards of cloth that she'd dumped there the day before. The nursery was vacant as well. She gazed at the wall where she'd last seen the child, but even his valise was gone.

She moved silently down the stairs and through the lower rooms, pausing at the parlor, the kitchen and the dining room without finding him _._

 _Dear Lord_ , she prayed, _let him be safe. He couldn't have left, could he? That poor little boy. Oh, Harry, what have I done? He's all alone! He's so alone. What have I done? I thought only of myself, and here I was believing I was capable of being a mother. Annie, you behaved so shamefully._

Finally, she paused at the little nook beside the stairs - her library. There was a bookshelf stuffed full with books, a small table, and a huge comfortable chair – and one small boy. Ezra sat with a book on his lap and a burnt out candle on the table beside him, legs dangling, asleep.

She crouched down, and held one unsteady hand over his sleeping face, afraid to touch him. She truly looked at him for the first time. His boyish features were so lovely. He'd grow to be a handsome man, but there was a sadness to his face as well. She glanced over his clothing, noting the perfect tailoring and the expensive fabric. It looked as if they'd been just purchased. His shoes were of the highest quality and newly shined. He was like a little gentleman asleep in her favorite chair.

He looked so young in his sleep. He'd sounded grown up when he spoke, but now he was just a child, a lonely little boy.

Ezra made a soft sound, something between a sigh and a whimper, drawing a frown to Annie's face.

"Poor thing," she whispered. "Poor, dear thing." She set down her lamp and carefully took the book from the boy's hands. Absently, she noted that the book was one of her Thackerys, and he was already several chapters into it. She set it on the little table beside the chair.

The chair was big enough to swallow up his small frame. If she just shifted him a bit, it would make an adequate bed for the night. She'd just need to make him a little more comfortable. Quietly, she started to unbutton his clever little shoes.

He came awake as she touched him, lifting one hand defensively, yanking his foot from her hands and tucking himself into a ball with a yelp.

"Ezra," she called, bringing one hand to his face, but he jerked away. His sleepy eyes held terror and he swatted almost blindly at her.

"It's me. It's Annie." Her heart thudded in her chest as she tried to still his thrashing hands.

Blinking and not entirely in this world, Ezra stilled and scudded away, trying to disappear, but there was nowhere to go. His voice still thick with sleep. "I didn't do anything. I didn't. I swear." He didn't seem to understand where he was and his eyes were round with fear.

"Hush, dear. Hush, it's me. It's only Annie, Annie Greer. Remember me?" she called. "You're safe. You're safe as houses. Look at me, dear. Please!"

He blinked again, gazing back at her. He seemed to calm as he recognized her. He almost smiled, but his face fell as he blushed in embarrassment about the situation. "I'm, I'm sorry," he stuttered. "I was startled. I didn't mean to alarm you. I was …" he glanced about. "Reading something and it distressed me, I think." He fussed at his jacket, not meeting her eyes. "That's all."

Annie frowned, creasing her brow, and wondered how Vanity Fair could bring about that reaction. She wanted to smile encouragingly at Ezra, but failed. It just made her heart sick to think that this little child should awake to such fear.

The silence between them was too much. She had to do something. "Let's get you out of this." Gently, she took hold of the gentleman's jacket and helped Ezra to remove it. The boy complied easily, either too tired to contest, or too well-mannered to deny her. "It's okay," she said softly, draping the jacket over one corner of the bookshelf.

"I was caught unaware," the boy continued sleepily.

"I know," she replied as she maneuvered the boy into a comfortable position on the overstuffed chair. She recalled that it had been their first piece of furniture. She and Harry would squeeze in, side-by-side and read together in this tiny room. They'd sit so close that they were nearly like one person.

"Go back to sleep," Annie told him. Remembering how he'd reacted before, she asked "Would it be okay if I took off your shoes? You'd be more comfortable, I think." The boy nodded and then watched her with dubious eyes as she eased off his shoes and set them carefully on the floor beside his carpetbag. "I'll get you a blanket, okay? We'll get the guestroom fixed up for you tomorrow. Will this be okay for tonight?"

Ezra nodded again, blinking against the exhaustion. She fluffed up one of the little pillows and settled it under his head, smiling as she smoothed the hair off of his forehead, but her heart still quaked seeing his startled eyes, remembering how he had flinched from her - little harmless Annie Greer. _Good Gracious, why?_

"I'll be right back," she promised him, and his gaze followed her has she left him. She hurried to the guestroom and pulled a fresh blanket from the chest. He was asleep by the time she returned. She settled it over him, tucking the soft coverlet around him and she wondered how a young boy could be so afraid. He had seemed so fearless earlier.

On impulse, she gave him a kiss on the forehead, then picked up the lamp and started back to her room. She turned before she left her little library, letting the gentle light of the kerosene lamp fall over the little man.

She sighed and whispered, "Oh Harry, what will I do?"

She watched as Ezra clutched the blanket close to him, holding it tightly as if he expected someone might try to take it from him _. I've been so selfish_ , she thought, _thinking only about myself. It's this poor child that's gotten the worst of the deal, left with a silly, stupid widow who doesn't know what to do with him._

She leaned her head against the doorframe and prayed for strength and guidance. _Lord help me_ , _to help him._

 _We'll manage. We'll be fine._ She turned, carrying the light to her own room. _It'll be okay - somehow._

As she trod up the staircase, she felt stronger. A resolve was building in her. _It will be fine. I'll take care of him until his mother returns. He won't flinch from me again. I'll give him no reason to fear._

She reached the top of the stairs and continued to her room. _Tomorrow_ , she promised, _things will be different. I may not be a mother, but I will do my best for him. I'll do what I can._ She ran the back of one hand over her eyes, as if to wipe away a tear – but she surprised herself by not crying.

A small smile graced her as she determined that she would be capable from now on. It wouldn't do to cower in her home any longer. As she sat the lamp on her bed stand, she would be strong from now on – not for herself but for the boy – for Ezra.

 _Yes,_ she thought, standing straight and tall. _If nothing else, perhaps his stay with me will be a pleasant memory. It seems like he might not have many of them._

Then, with a quaking breath, she sighed, "What have I gotten myself into?"

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

"Ezra," Josiah said as he strode into the saloon.

"Mr. Sanchez," Ezra returned, lifting his head to nod at the preacher. "Pleasant day?"

"So far so good," Josiah returned.

"Glad to hear it." Ezra dipped his pen into the inkwell that sat before him. He sat at the table near the front of the saloon, taking advantage of the early afternoon sunlight.

"Writing your mother?" Josiah asked with a smile. "She's a remarkable woman."

"That she is," Ezra responded.

"When's she coming back for a visit?" Josiah inquired as he circled around the table. "I'd like to take her out for dinner and an evening's entertainment."

Ezra snorted a laugh. "Oh, she'd like to take you for far more than what it costs for dinner."

"She coming soon?"

Standish shrugged. "She does as she pleases. I never know when she deigns to visit me. It's always a surprise."

"Remarkable woman," Sanchez repeated warmly. "Tell her that I asked after her and wish her well."

"I will when I write her," he stated.

"Oh," Josiah responded, glancing to the careful penmanship of the gambler. "If not Maude…" and he raised his gaze to meet Ezra's eyes.

Ezra made a face. "Dare I say, 'none of your business'?"

"Fair enough," Josiah said, taking a chair across near him.

Perhaps realizing that he'd been rude, Ezra sighed and said, "It's only a quick note to someone I knew in my youth, just enough to let her know that I'm alive and well. It's of little consequence."

Josiah nodded. "An old friend?" he tried.

"A caretaker," Ezra responded, and then restated, "An aunt, a dear and precious woman who meant a great deal to me when I was young."

"Ah," Josiah said, cocking his head to regard the conman. He glanced to the envelope, where he could see only the last part of the address. "She's in Saint Louis?"

Ezra smiled deviously. "The message is only routed through that city. She lives elsewhere."

Josiah raised an eyebrow. "So you don't want her to know where you live?"

Ezra paused, looking melancholy, and he gave a little nod. "She took me in," he said quietly, "when she very easily could have turned me out. My mother had played an awful ruse on her, and yet she did not hold it against me. She deserved better than that. I send her occasional missives to let her know that I am well so that she won't worry." He paused to look Josiah in the eye, "Because she would worry. I give her enough news to put her at ease. But she doesn't need to know the full truth about me, does she?" And he gave Josiah a knowing look as he gestured to his colorful attire. "She expected great things of me, none of which came to pass. I am not exactly a proper gentleman."

"Perhaps not," Josiah said.

"She wished better of me," Ezra continued. "The truth would be unpleasant for her."

"Now, Ezra, you aren't all bad." Josiah smile a little, to show that he was joking, but Ezra just gave him a curious look.

"The less she knows the better," Ezra said, blotting the page he'd written.

"I'd like to meet her someday," Josiah said, smiling and showing his teeth.

Ezra frowned. "You, Mr. Sanchez, are dangerous around women. Even worse than our Mr. Wilmington." He shook his head. "In any case, you will not have that opportunity." He settled the pen in its stand. "I've done everything I could to keep her from tracing the letters back to me. Let her believe what she will and leave reality out of the picture."

"So, you send her lies?" Josiah asked, gesturing to the letter.

With a roll of his eyes, Ezra said, "I'd never lie go her. I simply don't tell the truth."

"And that means…"

"I only say so much. The devil is in the details, or so they say." Ezra gathered up his work. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've been wasting away this lovely day." He stood and offered Josiah a smile. "Good day, sir," he said as he turned and made his way to the stairs at the back of the saloon

Josiah sighed and shook his head, never knowing for sure what to make of that man.

 **Continued in the next story**


	2. A Gambling Boy

**_RATING_** _: G  
_ _ **CATEGORY**_ _: Challenge - OW - Annie Greer Saga  
_ _ **MAJOR CHARACTERS**_ _: Little Ezra and an OFC, Annie Greer  
_ _ **DISCLAIMERS**_ _: This is fanfiction. No profit involved. This story is based on the television series "The Magnificent Seven". No infringement upon the copyrights held by CBS, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp. or any others involved with that production is intended.  
_ _ **NOTE**_ _: Vegas 2003 Magnificent 7 Challenge, given by NotTasha: Write a story that involves one or more of the following: Las Vegas, showgirls (dance hall girls), gambling, a casino and/or Elvis Presley. Include the following words: Exciting, Midnight, Bright, Jackpot and Illegal  
SUMMARY: Another slice of Ezra's past_

 ** _AWARDS_** _: Winner of the 2003 Diamond Ezzie Award for Best Other AU Fic-General-Short_ ; 2006 Mistresses Of Malarkey "Best Gen Series" Award and 'Perfect' Award _  
_ _ **DATE**_ _: Originally posted April 14, 2003_

 **The Annie Greer Saga – Part 2**

 **A Gambling Boy**  
 _By NotTasha_

* * *

Annie Greer awoke and listened to the dark room. Over the past four weeks, she'd become accustomed to a fact - her house was no longer empty. For a full month, there had been another soul beneath her roof.

The hapless child, Ezra Severt, lived with her. His mother had deposited him at her doorstep as her new son. Not quite an orphan, the nine-year-old had lived since then as a houseguest, a ward, a foster child. They'd told a story to any who would listen, stating that Ezra was a relation of her departed husband - Ezra claimed there were Greers in his family tree, so it was possible. They'd said that the boy was simply paying a visit for an undisclosed period of time. Nobody seemed too concerned.

So he lived with her and she watched out for him.

He was a strange, changeling child. He could be good-natured and boisterous, talking to her about just about anything, interested in everything she had to show him. He had a quick intelligence and a sparking sense of humor. His sarcastic tongue managed to sound closer to 'precocious' than 'obnoxious', and he made her laugh at his ability to reach the truth in matters.

But, in an unguarded moment, Annie would catch him with a somber expression. He would smile when he felt her gaze upon him, but so sadly, it almost broke her heart. If questioned, he was tight-lipped and quick to redirect the conversation.

He was an able learner. When she found that he enjoyed watching her play the piano, she started teaching. Soon, he was picking out simple melodies on her pianoforte. But, it wasn't until she convinced him that he didn't have to be perfect that he really started to improve. Where he'd originally had a mechanical quality, the music started to flow and he smiled as the melodies became looser and less structured. It was exciting to see him learn.

He certainly had a mouth on him and wasn't afraid of expressing his opinion. Annie soon learned that his barbed retorts were never aimed at her. He didn't lie outright, though he had an ability to twist the truth to an alarming degree. He had a slyness to him, and a tendency to disappear at times - but she'd learned where to find him. He was always quick to help her with any task.

Her life was changing in strange little ways. She'd been doing her shopping at Campbell's Grocery for years. After all, Mr. Campbell had come to her door after Mr. Greer's fatal accident. He'd been the one to offer comfort and a special delivery service to fulfill her shopping needs. Ezra investigated and concluded that Campbell was cheating her - shamelessly. "It's deplorable that the man would overcharge a widow, simply because he figures that no one would notice," Ezra had declared upon returning with his findings.

They now shopped with Mrs. Chan, who offered a remarkable variety of wares. Annie, of course, had objected at first, stating that Mrs. Chan was Chinese and there was no telling what sort of foreign nonsense was contained in her products. Ezra had pointed out that Emma Chan was born in Pittsburgh and was as American as either of them, plus she offered significantly better prices and fresher produce. Therefore, they shopped now in an Asian market and sometimes ate that strange foreign nonsense. And wonder of wonders - she enjoyed it.

He took daily jaunts and returned with remarkable tales - making the simplest events into " _can't be missed_ " excitement. She'd started going on walks with the boy… or _promenades_ , as he called them, to see what he had seen. Ezra certainly was an insistent youth and she couldn't deny him when he asked for her company.

She was surprised that it was so easy - so simple to step from her gate and tread upon those old familiar paths. The street was still lined with cherry trees and warm homes. The little town still stood – as it always had: groceries, dry goods, the butcher, a millinery, a haberdashery, the barbershop, the candy store, the drug store, the train station, the emporium, offices, businesses, hotels and taverns - and on and on. Nothing had really changed.

What had she expected? What had held her in her yard for so long? Once she had stepped clear of her property, she couldn't quite say. Perhaps she was just being foolish?

On that first walk, she had clutched his hand so tightly that the boy needed to remind her his hands were fragile and easily crushed. Her grip became more relaxed in time, but her heart had fluttered the first time they'd approached the place where her Harry had so fatally stepped. Ezra had easily guided her down a different lane and that disaster was averted.

She learned to live again – as she once had – before her world came crashing to a halt. She couldn't just huddle in her house any longer, not when she had Ezra with her.

Once, Annie sent Ezra to the store for black cloth so that she could make a new dress. She'd come to realize that her widow's dresses were ragged and worn - it had been five years after all. If she were to walk the streets, she'd best look presentable. He came back with dark cloth that proved to be deep blue. After claiming that the light in the store had been poor, Ezra produced the proper thread to match the cloth and stated that she'd might as well use it - for blue was nearly black and no one would notice.

But blue wasn't black. It wasn't even purple or gray which might be appropriate for mourning. Blue felt ' _different'_ beneath her finger. It gleamed when the light hit it just right. It made her skin glow when she wore it. Her drab-colored hair seemed lighter. She remembered standing in front of the mirror, turning back and forth as her new skirts rustled, and looking in astonishment at this woman. Mrs. Greer had forgotten that this 'Annie' existed.

She'd fidgeted and figured and fought with herself as she decided whether or not to wear the new dress in public. Then finally, she threw caution to the wind and stepped out in something other than black. The world didn't stop spinning. No one turned an accusing finger at her. No one demanded that she think about her dear departed Harry.

Annie renewed old friendships as Ezra walked her past the homes of people she'd once known. The people still breathed - still went on with their lives. Everyone was happy to see her, so full of compliments. Oh, they loved her new dress, thought her hair was lovely, and told her how healthy and vibrant she looked. "It's so good to see you, Annie," they had said. "So very good."

She started seeing more people, eventually venturing out alone to do so. She learned that Emma Chan, a widow as well, was a remarkable, intelligent and enjoyable woman. Mrs. Greer started to spend evenings in her company. She enjoyed exotic tea and home-baked cookies in Emma's quaint little rooms above her store. They talked about a manner of living that they both understood. Mrs. Chan's grown daughter would join them, and they chatted away like old friends.

Ezra started to follow a lawman around, an Officer Costello. He'd ask questions, watching him work, shadowing him. Annie had to retrieve the boy from the police station – and talk to Aaron Costello. The young southerner seemed infatuated with Costello's profession, asking him all manner of questions regarding the law. The officer was happy to oblige him and probably encouraged his behavior. Later, the man would confide to Annie that he felt Ezra was pumping him for details, interested in learning wasy to skirt the law instead of enforcing it.

She'd blush shamelessly after she'd retrieved the boy and giggle like a schoolgirl when she was alone in her room. Officer Costello had beautiful dark eyes and such full lips.

Then, just a week ago, without even realizing it, Ezra and Annie had walked right past that place where Harry had fallen. They'd been so immersed in their conversation that Annie didn't even know what had happened until they were just passed the spot.

She'd come to a standstill, to look at that section of walkway. Her eyes were wide and searching, thinking that this place – _this place -_ must somehow look different from all other positions on earth. She expected shattered floorboards, broken railings, blood! Even after five years passing, she expected some sign to remain. But the walkway looked just the same as every other length along the way. Ezra came beside her and held her hand as she stared.

Here she was, a widow in blue, who blushed when a policeman looked at her, who didn't cry when she passed the place where her husband had lost his life. Perhaps she should have hated herself for forgetting, but Ezra started talking and was so insistent on something, that she had to follow his chain of conversation. They'd made it all the way home before she thought of the situation again.

Life didn't stop.

She'd thought that she'd be caught in the same cold place for the rest of her days. It had become familiar to her. She believed it was her lot in life. Everything had changed since young Ezra came to her. He gave her a reason to wake up in the morning - to return to the world.

 _Ezra, the dear boy._ Annie considered the child and sat up in her bed. She continued to listen to the quiet house. A sudden urge caught her, to get up and look in on the boy. She laughed at the whim, but resolved to follow though. She lit the hurricane lamp beside her bed. After putting on her glasses and wrapping herself in a shawl, she tiptoed into the hallway and to the boy's room.

Slowly, she pushed open the door of her former 'guest room' and let the light fill the area. Seconds passes as her eyes opened wide. She blinked and didn't breathe, then adjusted her glasses, hoping she must be half-asleep and not seeing things correctly. The bed was empty and the window open. Curtains fluttered in the breeze as she held her breath.

 _Lord, no! Oh Lord! He's gone!_

Frantically, she searched through the room – under the bed, in the wardrobe – no boy!

Darting through her house, she searched the upper story first, then down to the main level. She checked the little library and every room, every nook and cranny. She glanced through the back window to see if any light shone from the privy. All was dark.

As she moved through the parlor, she checked the mantle clock - it was nearly midnight. _So late?_ Where had he gone? He wasn't in the house. What had happened to him?

 _Kidnapped!_ Someone might have climbed to that upper story and glanced in on the sweet-faced boy, snatching him away. Lord! Why hadn't she awakened? Why hadn't she heard? What sort of guardian was she?

Upstairs again, she returned to her room and quickly dressed. She hardly bothered to tighten her corset before she pulled on her dress. Hurriedly, she buttoned up her shoes, fixed her hair and settled a hat upon her head.

Had he run away? _Please, no_. She'd done everything she could to make him happy. He had truly seemed to enjoy her company. But what about those sad glances she'd seen? She really wasn't an ideal guardian, was she? No, too shy and silly. Had he been so miserable that he couldn't stand another night under her roof?

She ran down the stairs and grabbed the lantern near the door. As she lit it and glanced out the entrance, she remembered the first day she'd seen the boy – standing by Maude Severt at the front door.

Maude – had she come back for him? Ezra had often promised her that his mother would send for him – get him out of her way. "She'll be back," he'd told her more than once. "Or she'll tell me where to meet her. She always does. Nobody gets stuck with me for long." The consoling words only caused her grief. No matter how many times she's assured him that she wasn't 'stuck' with him, he'd only nod and smile in response.

She stepped out onto the front porch and looked about in the darkness. "Ezra!" she called softly. The privy was quiet – empty. Maybe he was just looking at the stars. He could be on the roof, just outside of his dormer window. She'd caught him up there before and made him promise to get down and never go there again. Lifting the lamp, she hoped the light would carry. "Ezra?" she called again, louder, not caring about the neighbors. She could see nothing.

Carefully, she circled the house twice, swinging the lantern to find her way. She found no trace of him.

With a quivering lip, she approached the fence. It was one thing to walk down the street during daylight hours. It was another thing altogether to go out alone after dark! Her hand quaked as she laid it on the gate, and she recalled the time she'd been unable to rush after Mrs. Severt. Annie Greer wasn't going to be afraid anymore, she reminded herself. She was stronger than that. She'd do this - for Ezra. He might be hurt, lost, frightened, calling for her. He needed her.

With a firm shove, she pushed the gate open and stepped onto the dark sidewalk. The night was quiet, and the street was wet with May rain. Down the street, she saw light from the town. There, she would find help. One of the officers must be on duty. They would help find him.

Had a train gone through tonight? She couldn't remember and paid no attention to the timetables. What if he'd gone with a passing train?

With a resolute step, she hurried along the walk, passing the houses of friends she'd only recently rediscovered. In the town, she paused at the jailhouse, hoping that Mr. Costello was there – telling Ezra tall tales, reading him letters from his adventurous brother, making Ezra laugh - but the Police Station was dark and empty.

She passed Mrs. Chan's grocery and contemplated climbing the stairs to ask Emma for help – but Emma was a widow, too, and undoubtedly asleep. Annie would wake the whole town, if she had to. But she'd rather start with those that she _knew_ were awake.

As she drew close to the only lit business, she noted that it was "The Meadows Tavern and Casino". Her steps became slower as she approached that den of sin. It was a drinking palace, a gambling establishment and - God forgive her for even thinking it - a brothel.

The raucous sound of an out-of-tune piano greeted her ears, along with the shouting and coarse calls of men at play. She could do this, she told herself. If the local law wasn't at the police station, that the man on duty might be here. She'd find him. Call him. It didn't matter that she'd be embarrassed – that she'd blush and look foolish. This wasn't a time to worry about herself. She needed help to find the boy.

Slowly, she moved into the doorway and gazed through the opening. Inside it was bright, loud and full of commotion. How could so many people be active at this late hour? Her eyes darted, recognizing some faces - others were strangers to her.

Women strutted about in almost nothing, making her feel faint with shame for them. On a little stage, just barely visible from her vantage-point, three women were dancing, kicking their legs far too high for anyone's modesty. She quickly averted her eyes.

And everywhere, people gambled - tables surrounded by men with their cards - wheels and dice made a horrible clatter. Everyone was so preoccupied with their near-illegal activities that no one even noticed the pale face in the doorway.

Mr. Costello was nowhere in sight. She couldn't find any of the other familiar officers. She'd have to settle for someone else. She was just about to pull out her handkerchief and wave it frantically when she caught sight of figure at a poker table near the back of the room.

There, one person looked back at her. The player became as still as a statue and his face took on a look even more frightened then her own. He bowed his head and spoke a few words to the men playing with him. After laying down his cards, he scooped up his winnings, picked up his hat and scuttled to the doorway. The men laughed as Annie stepped back so that the nine-year-old could exit.

"Ezra!" she hissed at him. "What were you…? Who do you think…? Why did you…?" Unable to form a question, she finally blurted out, "Do you have any idea how much you worried me?"

The boy cowered, stepping out of reach. "I'm sorry, Auntie Annie," he apologized softly. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

Not knowing what else to say, she ordered. "Home! Now!" Annie turned sharply and started back toward her house, knowing Ezra would follow. Neither said a word as they walked. Annie's anger burned and the boy shuffled behind her, just outside of the lantern's glow. Lord, how could he do this to her? He had nearly scared the life out of her. Meanwhile, as she suffered, he had been playing cards in a casino filled with full-grown, dangerous men and barely-clothed women!

When they reached the gate, Annie held it open. She waited as the boy hung back, his face outside of the light. Even in the dark, it was impossible to miss the slumped shoulders and the bowed head.

"Ezra," she called and reached for him. She stilled her movement when he jerked away from her, stumbling and nearly falling in his haste. "Ezra," she said again, softer than before. "Come in."

The boy paused, and seemed to conclude that he had no choice. He strode forward, his gaze on the path. He cringed as he made his way through the gate and then stopped to face her once he was within the yard.

Slowly shutting the gate behind her, she sighed. The boy seemed ready for a thrashing, and wouldn't meet her eyes. Yet, he didn't flee from her. Rather, he waited patiently, resigned, for whatever she had in store. Her anger fled her as she noted his passive stance, his quiet acceptance.

"I won't hit you, Ezra," she stated quietly. "I'd never hit you."

The boy didn't move. He just nodded numbly.

"Go inside. I need to talk to you."

Leading the way, he held the door open for her. She heard him whisper, "I'm so sorry," as she passed.

Once in the dining room, she lit the lamps and they sat, side-by-side, at the table - saying nothing. He smelled of tobacco and alcohol. She watched as he stared at his hands - waiting.

"Were you drinking?" Annie finally asked.

"No, ma'am," Ezra responded. "It clouds the mind."

"You smell of it," she commented.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and set it on the table. "Soaked it," he commented. "To make them think I had imbibed." He sighed and fiddled with the cloth. "They buy me drinks. I sip at them, but that's all. I have to pretend that I appreciate it. I dump it out when I can."

"Were you smoking?"

"No, ma'am. The gentlemen around me did." He picked at his jacket. "It's unfortunate. I'll have to air it out."

"What were you doing in there, Ezra?"

He shrugged, a small movement of his shoulders. "Playing poker."

"At midnight? At a casino? Ezra, you're just a boy!"

"Midnight is when the tables are at their best. A casino is where the gambling takes place. And I can't help being a boy. I just can't help it," his voice trailed off as he pulled at the cloth.

She laid one hand on his shoulder and felt him flinch - as he hadn't done since that first day. "I'm not going to hit you, Ezra," she repeated. "I promise, I won't."

He nodded tightly, his expression firm and disbelieving. Oh Lord, what was she going to do? He seemed so ready to hear lies, what could she say except the truth?

"You scared me," she said softly. "I was so scared when I looked in your room and you weren't there. I didn't know what had happened. I thought maybe kidnappers had taken you. Maybe you were hurt. Maybe you were lost and trying to get back to me. Maybe you had run away." Her voice broke as she spoke, but she didn't cry.

He raised his head and finally met her gaze. "I wouldn't run away," he told her softly. "I promise I wouldn't do that."

"I thought, maybe, your mother had come for you. I thought you'd just left and I'd never be able to say 'goodbye'." Her eyes were moist at that thought – that someday he'd be gone – returned to the mother that had abandoned him.

Blinking at her, Ezra stated softly, "I would say goodbye. I would."

"But why did you go to that casino? Why were you playing poker, of all things?"

"Because I'm good at it," Ezra said softly. "It's the only thing I'm good at." His voice trailed off and he made a sour face at his own comment.

"Heavens no, Ezra." Mrs. Greer shook her head. "You're learning the piano so quickly, and you're such wonderful reader. You're smart and clever and can do anything."

Ezra smiled for a moment, before the expression dropped. "Poker makes good money," he stated as he pulled at the handkerchief. "You can't win a jackpot unless you play the game. It's the only thing I can do that makes money."

"Why do you need to make money, Ezra?" Annie cried.

"I must," Ezra started and looked away. "I need to get enough."

"Enough for what? To go away?" Why else would the boy need money? Annie took care of his every need – but apparently, it wasn't enough. "Do you need money for a train ticket? Do you need it for when your mother sends word, so that you can go to her?"

The boy gave her an astonished look. "No…no." He reached into his pocket to pull out a wad of cash, holding it out to her as proof. There was more secreted in his shoe, and he added the bills, setting it on the table when Annie wouldn't take it from him. "That should be $178," he said, nodding toward the pile. "I need to make at least two hundred more to pay you back. I've been working hard to do it." His brow puckered as he admitted, "I don't win every night, but I'm going to do it. I swear."

"Pay me back? For what?" She looked in disbelief at the cash.

"To make it even, because Mother cheated you." Ezra grimaced and turned away, disgusted with himself. "You shouldn't be cheated. It wasn't right."

"I never wanted any money from you. Besides," Annie shook her head, not understanding. "She only took $300. You're talking about more than that."

"I eat," the boy responded. "I only increase the debt daily. I can't stand for debts, my own or others." Ezra's voice became softer as he spoke.

"Oh, Ezra. I don't want any of it. You don't need to do it. There's no reason for you to play poker."

Ezra was quiet for a moment before he explained, "It's best if I continue to play. I must stay sharp. I cannot allow my skills to fail me. Mother won't stand for it." He pressed his lips together for a moment before he continued, "If I can't make money, Mother won't want me back. No one would want me."

Reaching out, Annie encircled the boy and pulled him close. He moved without resistance, like a doll. Leaning his head against her shoulder, she said softly. "But I want you." He was so warm in her arms. It felt so good to hold him. She hadn't been able to do this yet – to cuddle the boy, to cradle him.

Ezra curled against her. "I have certain skills, my God-given talents," he drawled softly. "It's a crime to let them waste away. It's my destined livelihood. I'm to be a gambler and a confidence man. What will I do without my skills?"

"I'll take care of you," Annie continued. "You won't pay me back. I don't want that. I have enough." She twisted her position so that she could see his somber, pale face. He no longer looked frightened, but he looked so resigned. "I was so afraid that you were hurt, that I would never see you again."

"I was just playin' poker," Ezra murmured.

"They'll be no more of that," she whispered. When she felt him slouch discontentedly against her, she continued, "I don't hate the game, Ezra. Harry and I used to play cards. I just don't want you in that place with those men. You could get hurt. What would happen if they got mad at you for winning?" For certainly, the boy had won quite often. The pile of money was evidence to that.

"Sometimes they get mad," Ezra said softly. "But I can _usually_ get away."

That word 'usually' ate at the softhearted widow. How many times had this child been hurt? Why had his mother allowed this to happen? Well, Maude had left a nine-year-old on her doorstep with hardly a how-de-do. Nothing should be surprising about that woman.

"No more, Ezra," she whispered.

"But it's all I can do," he returned. "It's the only thing I have. I have to be able to take of myself alone. I can't count on anyone else."

"You have me now," she told him. "You can count on me. And you have so much more." She kissed him on the top of his head. "If you want to play cards, we'll find another means. I used to be very good at rummy and whist. If you want to play with a couple of old widows, I'm sure Mrs. Chan and maybe her daughter would like to join us. Mr. Costello and some of the other lawmen used to play poker with Harry. I bet they wouldn't mind if you joined them. They like you. Just for match-sticks though, no money." Her mind was racing now, trying to figure this out.

The boy was relaxing further against her. He sniffled.

"You're a smart boy, so talented," she continued as she held him tight. "Such a wonderful child. You could be anything you want." He didn't respond to this comment, but he listened. With a smile, Annie said, "You want to take a sure bet?"

"Certainly," the child replied, closing his eyes as he nestled close to her. "Always."

"I bet you grow up to be an amazing young man. I bet you end up surrounded by people who love you and appreciate you. Do you want to take a real gamble?" She felt him nod against her. "You don't have to be what your mother planned. I bet you could be anything you could imagine. You'd just have to try for it. Take a gamble, and try."

His voice was sleepy as he asked, "Anything?"

"I bet you could even be a lawman like Mr. Costello if you wanted."

His tired but ironic chuckle brought a smile to Annie's face. She held him, tighter than she'd ever held him before. He smiled and pressed his head against her.

As she continued to rock him, wanting to hold him for just a few minutes longer, she worried. She wanted to keep him safe from harm, forever. As long as he lived under her roof, she'd protect him. Her only fear was what would happen when Maude returned to claim the little gambling boy.

He needed someone that he could count on, someone to trust. Where would he find that when he left her home?

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

"Ezra," Larabee greeted as he pushed open the door to the jailhouse. The room was filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee. Early morning light filled the room.

Standish leaned back in the desk chair and flipped a card into his awaiting hat as Chris shut the door. The card lofted suddenly and landed beyond its target.

Ezra lifted his gaze to fix it on the gunslinger. "You sent a gale through the room with your entrance," was his explanation for his failure.

"Sure," Larabee said and strode to the little stove. He held his hands up for a moment to collect the warmth before grabbing a mug from the shelf and filling it with coffee from the kettle. "Any trouble?" He inclined his head toward the cell.

"None whatsoever," Ezra replied, tossing another card that didn't quite make it. He scowled, and said, "There's a disturbance in the airflow within the room."

"Hmmm," Larabee responded as he moved to the cell to stare at the sleeping prisoner.

"Our thief slept through the night," Standish said. "Not a peep out of him since I took over at midnight."

"Hmmm," Larabee said again. Ezra usually took the night shift when they needed someone to remain vigilant at the jail. He claimed it was because he was a night-owl by nature, but Chris suspected it was because the prisoners were usually quietest in those early hours.

Of course, it took Standish away from the tables when they were at their best.

"I take it that we don't have any travelers in town worth a game?" Chris asked.

Ezra shrugged. "One or two might be with the trouble," he said. "They'll be around tomorrow," he paused and corrected himself, "… tonight."

Chris turned in time to see a card finally land within the hat, and he looked up to see Ezra grinning at him.

Chris shook his head, amused by how tickled Ezra seemed to be at the victory. Larabee waited a moment until the gambler set another card sailing before he started across the room at a quick stride. The card went in the wrong direction.

Ezra grumbled but said nothing as he sat up, straightening the cards in hand. He pulled his watch from his pocket and snapped open the cover. "You're late," he accused.

With a nod to the clock on the wall, Chris said, "I'm right on time."

"That clock is slow," Ezra told him. "It always has been, no matter how often I correct it."

With a shrug Chris took a sip from the mug. Thankfully, Ezra, unlike others in their group, made drinkable coffee.

With a fluid moment, Ezra stood and strode to his hat. He bent down to sweep the scattered cards into the crown. He yawned as he worked.

"Long night?" Chris asked.

Ezra shrugged. "No longer than what's usual."

"You been keeping busy pitching cards all night?" Chris asked.

With a sigh, Ezra said, "Well, that started after solitaire grew tedious. It loses its luster after so many games. Before that, I'd gone through the wanted posters. I swear, some of those men owe me money." He moved around the desk and picked up one of the papers. "But this is the one that we're looking for." He held it up to the jail cell. "We may have a name for our unknown prisoner. A fair match, don't you think?"

"Todd Malone," Chris said, and the man within the cell stirred at the name. Larabee took the page from Ezra and squinted at the image on the poster as he looked at the waking man. The drawing was always hit-or-miss, but the description fit perfectly. "Good job, Ezra."

Ezra flipped a hand lazily as he said, "I was bored."

"Glad you were," Chris responded as he sipped at his mug and regarded the poster. Yup, they'd found out the name of their mystery man. And with this information, they knew that his theft from Potter's Store was nothing new. It could have been much worse.

"The work of a lawman is often tedious." Standish stated as he pulled the cards from his hat. Quickly, he quickly straightened them and slipped them back into their box.

"It's better when it's quiet," Chris commented. "We've had too many dust-ups lately"

"If we're not rushing out hell-bent-for-leather after some dangerous foe, we're sitting about doing nothing watching the likes of this," Ezra gestured toward Todd Malone, who was scratching at his armpit as he sat up.

"Makes you wonder why we stay at it," Larabee said.

Malone smacked his mouth and spat on the floor.

"It's the perks," Ezra replied evenly.

Chris chuckled.

Ezra settled the hat on his head. "With that, I bid you good morning, sir." He turned to leave, but stopped midway. With a quick step, he moved to the clock and adjusted the time to match his watch. That done, Ezra nodded sharply at Larabee, touched to the brim of his hat, then strode through the door and out into the dawn.

Larabee shook his head and placed his mug on the desk. He reread the wanted poster as he made his way across the room, pausing to change the clock back to its previous time. That done, he returned to the desk and settled in for the day.


	3. Ephemeral

**_RATING_** _: PG  
_ _ **CATEGORY**_ _: Challenge - Annie Greer Saga  
_ _ **MAJOR CHARACTERS**_ _: Ezra and OFC - Annie Greer  
_ _ **DISCLAIMERS**_ _: This is fanfiction. No profit involved. This story is based on the television series "The Magnificent Seven". No infringement upon the copyrights held by CBS, MGM, TNN, The Hallmark Station, Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp. or any others involved with that production is intended.  
_ _ **NOTE**_ _: September 2003 Challenge, offered by Setcheti: Write a story that somehow involves one of the guys with a teddy bear or other stuffed toy of your choosing. The toy does not have to be the focus of the story, but it should have at least some significance. Any AU is acceptable.  
_ _ **SUMMARY**_ _:_ Another Annie Greer story, with Annie contemplating purchasing a little something for young Ezra.

 ** _AWARDS_** _:_ 2006 Mistresses Of Malarkey "Best Gen Series" Award and 'Perfect' Award _  
_ _ **DATE**_ _: Originally Posted September 07, 2003_

 **The Annie Greer Saga – Part 3**

 **Ephemeral**  
 _By NotTasha._

* * *

Annie Greer moved through the cramped aisles of Emma Chan's store. Her hand touched the strange and exotic things. She breathed in the rare odors, half-disgusted by them, half-entranced. The store smelled of earth, it smelled of animals, flowers, spice and perfume and faraway places.

Outside, it was a warm June day in a quiet town. Inside the store, was the wealth of the world – little figures from India, tins of tea from Japan, tiny bottles of French perfume, German wind-up toys, South American pottery, unidentifiable dried bits of roots, vegetables, animals and sea life, spices and herbs from all corners of the globe. Stone figures next to paper fans – things that would last forever, sharing shelf space with ephemeral distractions. She lingered, carefully maneuvering her basket through the narrow aisle, exploring.

Annie, already finished with her daily shopping, was taking a trip around the globe. Mrs. Greer liked this part of her day – enjoyed the time she spent within the cramped store. Her heart beat a little faster as her eyes lit upon the eclectic mix of goods. She felt like a world traveler, an explorer, an adventuress, capable of anything.

She used to have her groceries delivered to her home. Now, she regretted that she'd wasted so many days without this little adventure.

She smiled, picturing herself in traveling togs, traveling by ship to faraway places, jostling her way through crowded bazaars, exploring ancient ruins, swinging a machete through a jungle path – unbothered by the snakes that draped just over her head.

 _Oh dear, Annie Greer, what are you thinking?_ She giggled and covered her mouth.

"You found something funny?" Mrs. Chan asked, as she puttered about behind the counter. Her eyes sparkled, ready to find the humor in Annie's discovery. "I have many funny things."

"Oh, Emma," Mrs. Greer sighed, "I'm just being so silly, thinking about where all of this must have come from. How do you do it? How do you find so many interesting things to sell?"

"Easy," the older woman said with a warm smile and her lovely accent. "Boston, New York, Baltimore - everything comes in ships. You will go to those places someday. You will see." She gestured to the stuffed shelves. "Much more. You will go far."

Annie's hand touched a red stone horse from China, knowing that this store would be the extent of her travels. Here was a little boat, woven from reeds from Lake Titicaca. Next, she spotted a series of folded-paper cranes hanging from the ceiling, created from colorful paper and strung together. They could fly no further than Annie. She was a homebody, a local girl, a timid waif.

Emma, of course, had lived a much more exciting life than Annie could imagine. She'd been born in Pittsburgh, but spent most of her life submerged in the culture of the Chinese people, living almost as if she'd been born in that distant land. Oh, the stories she told about her childhood! Annie could hardly fathom that exotic life. Emma had married young and traveled all over the country, to the Orient and back with her adventurous husband. Then, they settled here, in this harmless little town.

Even young Ezra had traveled more than Annie Greer. The boy's tales revealed a bewildering list of temporary homes. From east to west, north to south, the boy had seen much of this expanding country. Already, in his nine short years, he'd seen more than she ever would.

Ezra, she thought lovingly of the boy who shared her house – her pretend son - her temporary child. There was something so dear about him. She just wanted to gather him into her arms and keep him forever. But, she knew that couldn't happen. She knew that he'd stay only as long as Maude allowed. The boy's mother would return someday and take him away. Her expression lengthened at that sad thought. That day would come too early, she realized.

Even now, she couldn't bear the thought of losing the boy. What would she do when he left? What sort of life would he be thrust into – without her? How would he feel – without her? Would he miss her once he was gone? Would he remember?

As Annie glanced about the chock-a-block store, a thought struck her. She'd get something for Ezra. She smiled as she came up with this plan. Yes, find a small gift for him. Something he could keep, that he might be able to take with him as a memory of her. He needed something that would last.

He asked for nothing and he thought of himself as a burden. She'd yet to break him out of the resolution. Maybe a little present would help. A gift would show him that he was ' _wanted'_. He was usually so bright and happy but he'd seemed glum lately. He needed something to cheer him.

A little bin of marbles caught her eye and she drove her hand into the glass globs, marveling at how good the cool glass felt in her hand. Ezra liked marbles, didn't he?

There were few children on their street; mostly old men and women inhabited the stately lane. Of the few children along that route, most were older or younger than the nine-year-old, so Ezra had found few playmates. He seemed content to spend his days in reading, learning the piano, helping her at whatever caught her fancy, playing cards with the officers at the police station or exploring the town. Recently, he had taken up marbles, joining the older boys up on Post Street.

Ezra had a tin can that he kept under his bed. One day, the can might brim and the next day it would appear nearly empty, but usually it stayed half-filled. Ezra Severt would carry the can from the house, giving his "Auntie" a grin and a 'goodbye', to spend a few hours in play with some of the local boys. She had no idea where he'd gained the glass balls that started his collection, but he'd been able to make it grow rather quickly.

Whether he won or lost, he'd come home with a self-satisfied look and return the can to its hiding place, beside the box of matchsticks that he used as markers when he played poker with the officers.

Still, he didn't covet his marbles like other boys. She'd seen boys talking excitedly about their latest acquisitions, clutching their prizes, rolling their best marbles in their hands, picking through this bin with trembling hands. Ezra hardly touched his. He seemed to regard them, like his matchsticks, as little more than 'markers' and an excuse to gamble.

If she were to purchase some marbles for him – well, they'd go in the can with the others and disappear as Ezra continued the game. No, not marbles. There had to be something else he'd enjoy.

She moved down the aisle, her eyes searching for something special, something Ezra might like. There was a knife with a beautiful handle, a small bible bound in leather, a lead soldier with his clothing all blackened, a toy sheriff's badge, a harmonica, a mustache comb. She moved past them, not knowing what the boy would like.

He had been living with her for three months. She should know what he liked! He liked card games. He enjoyed playing the piano. He liked to read. She glanced to the crowded shelves in Emma's book section, and didn't know what to get. The boy was quickly working his way through her library and seemed to want nothing outside of it. There was still plenty of books at home to peruse so it seemed silly to buy one more. Besides, a book is quickly finished, and paper is so easily damaged. She wanted something more permanent.

 _What then?_ She moved through the store, searching. Emma, noting a change in Annie's behavior, asked, "Annie, are you looking for something?"

"Oh, I'm not sure," Annie said softly as she stepped along one side of the store. Certainly, there would be something here the boy would like – but what?

 _I must find something he could keep,_ she thought. _Something small enough to fit in that carpetbag._ Something that would be soft in his hands. Something he could hold when he was lonely – for she had seen that loneliness in his eyes. She needed to find a gift to assuage that aloneness, if only for a little while when he was away from her.

She paused when something glinted at her – a flash of light on the tiniest piece of glass. She looked closer to find something peeping out from a dark corner of a shelf. She moved a jointed nutcracker, a boxed cuckoo clock, and a clever candle-powered windmill to stare into the glass eyes of a small black bear.

She pulled out the little creature. It stood on all fours -its back humped, its head down. It seemed to be a fierce little creature, strong and resilient. Annie settled it on the palm of one hand and turned it with the other. It was a beautiful little animal, tightly sewed and stuffed with sawdust. Little claws had been stitched on its paws to attest to its might. Its ' _fur'_ was impressively short and bristled under her fingers. Its little triangle nose was carefully stitched at the end of its muzzle. Its glass eyes had an intensity to them, as if the toy was staring down some other creature, but its mouth had a funny crook. It was a mistake, no doubt, but it looked as if the little bear was amused by something, smiling at some secret joke.

Annie smiled back.

"Do you like it?" Emma asked as she shuffled out from behind her counter.

"I do," Annie whispered in reply, as if a louder voice might startle the wild beast. "I just wonder if Ezra would like it."

"Ezra!" Emma beamed at the mention of the boy. "Such a good boy." She cocked her head, adding. "Naughty sometimes, but not bad." When Annie gave her a quizzical look, the woman explained, "Those Campbell boys came in here one day. They were making mess." She waved her hands about in demonstration. "Ezra, he came rushing in and told them that their daddy was calling - calling loud, angry! They left in big hurry. Ezra told me he lied about Mr. Campbell." She smiled. "He naughty, but not bad. He helped me fix things right." She plucked the animal from Annie's hand. "It's a nice bear. I will make it better."

Annie followed as Emma hurried back to her counter and then disappeared behind it.

"Do you think Ezra will like it?" Annie asked. "He's so grown up. Maybe it's not a good toy."

"He's a little boy," Emma declared as she pulled a clothing brush from a drawer and brushed the dusty bear. "Little boys like toys."

"I don't know," Annie said, screwing up a frown. "Maybe I should get him a book."

Emma kept brushing, bringing a shine to the bear's pelt. "He will like this bear."

"He's like a little man," Annie continued. "Sometimes, it's as if he's not a boy at all. I think I should get him something more adult." She turned to further peruse the shelves.

"Ezra is a boy!" Emma insisted. "He should be treated like a boy." As she spoke, she dipped into her notions drawer and pulled out a spool of ribbon. "My Lydia, she grew so fast. One day, she was a little girl with ribbons in her hair. Always playing with her dolly. Next day, a woman." She cut off a length and quickly tied the ribbon around the bear's neck, fixing it under its chin like a bow tie instead of at the back of its head. "A child should be a child. They are only young for so long. Too short a time." She smiled at the result. The bear had a sophisticated look. "He will like it."

"I don't know," Annie continued, as Emma Chan nestled the little bear into her basket and totaled her purchases.

"He will like it," Emma reiterated with a wink.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

Annie Greer unpacked her purchases for the day, and settled them in their proper places. Only the little black bear had no place to go. She set him on the table, wondering how she'd present it to the grown-up boy. She didn't know how he'd take the little bruin with the jaunty expression. He'd either laugh at it and make the gift a joke or maybe be annoyed by it, thinking it was just a silly child's toy.

She contemplated putting it away, but before she could move, there was a creak of the door and a voice called out, "Auntie Annie, I'm home." Ezra walked in through the front door and smiled at her. His eyes had that distant look to them again and he held his hands behind his back as he came toward her. His gaze flashed to the bear on the table, but he lingered for only a moment on it before he approached her.

"Did anything come in the mail?" he asked tentatively.

With a sigh, Anne told him, "No, I'm sorry, Ezra. Mr. Ryder didn't have anything for you."

If he was disappointed, Ezra didn't show it. "Did you enjoy shopping?" he asked pleasantly.

"Yes, I had a very nice chat with Mrs. Chan," Annie returned. "And where have you been all day?"

Ezra paused a moment, as if to come up with a story, but seemed to discard that idea as he responded, "I was at the train station."

"All day?" Annie asked, concern tingeing her voice.

"I thought, perhaps, there might be an important shipment today." Realizing that he'd said something odd, Ezra stopped. To change the topic, he stated, "There's a bear on your table."

Annie gestured the boy to the table and they sat down side-by-side. The bear looked back at him with its glass eyes. "I bought it for you," she said timidly. "You can do whatever you want with it. You don't have to like it if you don't want to."

Ezra stared at the sawdust-stuffed animal somberly. He touched it, feeling the short fur. He ran one finger over the top of its tan muzzle, as if carefully patting it. "It's very nice," he stated, withdrawing the finger. "What's it for?"

"It's for you to play with… if you like," Annie explained, feeling stupid.

Ezra colored, embarrassed, and stated, "I meant to say, 'why did you purchase it?'"

Annie shrugged nervously. "It's just a little gift. A little gift for you." She continued in a rush, watching as the boy gently touched the red ribbon. "I saw it at Mrs. Chan's. It's silly, I know, but I thought you might like it. I wanted to get something special for you - just for you."

The boy drew his hands into his lap, cocked his head and gazed back at the widow. "How did you know?" he asked solemnly.

"Know? Know what, Ezra?"

Ezra clenched his hands together in his lap and whispered, "How did you know it was my birthday today?"

Annie sighed, realizing the reason for Ezra's sullen mood, understanding immediately why the boy had spent the day at the train station, knowing that he had spent hours there, hoping for something, someone. _Oh Maude,_ she thought, _how can you treat him like this? No letter, no gift, no message at all? He'd waited all day for nothing._

She stated softly, "I just wanted to get you something today because you're very special to me. Because I like you."

The child smiled at her, then reached one hand out again to scratch the little nose. "Can I keep it?" he asked softly.

"Yes. Yes, of course," Annie replied, keeping the surprise from her voice.

"Forever?" Ezra asked, tilting his head to meet her eyes.

Annie paused, wondering about the boy. She knew so little about his past, but she figured he rarely had anything that was his-very-own. He arrived with only a carpetbag of clothing _. He must have lost so many things_ , she thought. _He has no concept of 'forever'. Everything in his life has been 'temporary'. He can't even count on his mother to be there for him_.

She nodded tightly. "You can keep it as long as you like - forever."

He continued to pet it – patiently, carefully, solemnly – on its little tan muzzle. "Thank you," he whispered.

Annie Greer watched as Ezra Severt caressed the little toy and she wondered how to teach the boy about forever.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

Ezra Standish, gambler extraordinaire and lawman from Four Corners, ambled happily down the stuffed aisles of the Import Shop. He had lost Buck and the others somewhere in the strange town. They were probably at one of the saloons, the restaurant, bathhouse or whorehouse. It didn't matter to Standish. When Ezra had spotted the sign outside of "Mrs. Lee's Market", he couldn't resist taking a stroll through the bursting store.

He breathed in deeply, smelling those same exotic scents, flooding his mind with recollections of Mrs. Chan's, remembering the days spent within those walls, helping her unpack the marvels that arrived from around the world, stocking shelves, sweeping, talking, keeping an eye on those Campbell boys.

And he remembered Aunt Annie. He smiled, relishing the memories. _Aunt Annie, dear Auntie Annie._

Mrs. Lee sat behind the counter looking like Mrs. Chan. She watched him with amused eyes as he regarded the overstuffed shelves – filled with anything and everything. "You looking for something special?" Mrs. Lee asked. "You need help to find?"

"No, no," Ezra assured as he moved through the memories, "I am quite content to browse your wares. It's a little like traveling the world."

"Yes, yes," Mrs. Lee said, grinning widely. "We have everything, everything you want."

 _Yes, yes indeed,_ Ezra thought as he moved slowly, taking it all in – finding familiar objects everywhere. The red stone horse, the paper fans – reed boats - heavy permanent figures side-by-side with things that could not last. All of it drew him back to that happy time in his life.

He came to a sudden halt as something caught his eye. Something glinted, as if the light was caught by a tiny piece of glass. Taking a moment to push aside a tiny Bavarian cottage, a green hinged box and a crystal bowl, he revealed a little black bear with a humped back.

He pulled it out and marveled at the sawdust-stuffed animal. It looked so much like his "Horatio", the bear he had owned as a child. He turned it over slowly, noting the same careful stitching, the intense glass eyes, and the crooked smile that made the bear look like he was contemplating doing something naughty.

His bear started off with a ribbon around his neck, but that was quickly lost, and his bristly hair had become threadbare in time. He had lost one eye and spilled sawdust through split seams that were eternally being re-sewed. His stiff little legs had stopped supporting him, but his quirky little smile always remained – always laughing at some secret thing.

Ezra held the new bear carefully, staring back at its perplexing expression – solemn eyes and a laughing mouth.

He'd loved his little bear, had kept it safe and perfect at his bedside while he'd lived in Auntie Annie's house. Later, once they'd parted ways, the bear had become mashed down when he slept with it. Its pretty little face had become disfigured, its muzzle bent from his perpetual petting. Horatio's fur wore away from being clutched tightly on those bad days after he'd left Annie's care, had become matted and ruined by being held close to his face.

Horatio became a dirty, mangled bear that he was too old for (Maude told him so much). Then one day, when they moved by train from south to north, he'd discovered the bear was gone.

Maude had been indifferent at his distress. "You're too old for such silly things, darling son," she had said. "It really was an awful old thing. Now, be mother's little man and get ready. I don't have time for your childish sullenness."

And he got over it.

But he'd loved that bear. Annie had told him that the bear was his forever – yet he'd had it for little more than a year before it had been lost. The memory lasted though.

Ezra smiled as he held this new bear. Carefully he ran one finger over its tan muzzle, petting it gently as he had once caressed his Horatio.

Forever, he realized, is a very long time and stuffed toys are ephemeral things – bound to be loved-up by little children – bound to be worn down and eventually left behind.

As he gazed at the little bear, he thought of his Aunt Annie and smiled gratefully at the memory of the gentle woman who'd taken the time to love him. He'd never forget her – the memory of the woman would be with him always – through everything - forever.

"You like the bear?" Mrs. Lee called from behind counter.

"Yes, very much," Ezra said, still cradling the creature. He could purchase it, he realized, but then what?

"There is child somewhere? A child somewhere who would like it?"

"Yes," Ezra said softly, "Somewhere…" He set the bear down at the front of the shelf so that it would have a better chance at being found, so that they could eventually love the stuffing out of it.

Someone might be lonely. Someone might need a soft and stalwart companion.

He smiled at the kind old lady, tipped his hat, and went on his way.


	4. Home of the Brave

**_RATING_** _: G  
_ _ **CATEGORY**_ _: Challenge - Annie Greer AU  
_ _ **MAJOR CHARACTERS**_ _: Ezra and OFC - Annie Greer  
_ _ **DISCLAIMERS**_ _: This is fanfiction. No profit involved. This story is based on the television series "The Magnificent Seven". No infringement upon the copyrights held by CBS, MGM, TNN, The Hallmark Station, Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp. or any others involved with that production is intended.  
_ _ **NOTE**_ _: January 2004 Challenge - Offered by Helen Adams " In whatever open Universe you like, show me at least two of the guys involved in a sporting event, game or contest - anything, as long as it's physical.". - I had to cheat a bit.  
_ _ **SUMMARY**_ _: An Annie Greer story, where Ezra and Annie attend a picnic and learn to be a little bit brave._

 ** _AWARDS_** _:_ 2006 Mistresses Of Malarkey "Best Gen Series" Award and 'Perfect' Award _  
_ _ **DATE**_ _: Originally posted January 17, 2004_

 **The Annie Greer Saga – Part 4**

 **Home of the Brave**  
 _By NotTasha._

* * *

"How does this look?" Annie Greer asked the boy. Side by side, they toted a basket through the hot weather. "The shade will be nice, don't you think?" She had found a grassy rise, beneath a tree, near the playing field and not far from the lake. She wasn't sure of her choice. It seemed that many of the prime spots in the park were already snatched up. Blankets dotted the grass like patchwork.

Ezra took on a speculative look as he regarded the selected spot. He was a compact lad, small for his ten years, but his expression was more fitting for a grown man. "Acceptable," he decided and smiled winningly up at his Aunt Annie. "I believe it will suit us well." They lowered the basket and released their hold on the handle.

Annie pulled a blanket from their basket, remembering the confused look the boy had given her when she'd asked him to fetch it. "A blanket?" he'd quizzed. "On such a hot day? That blue one is worn. You wouldn't want to be seen with it."

"It's for the picnic," Annie had patiently replied. When the boy returned her a bewildered look, she further explained. "We'll lay it out and have our supper on the ground. Besides, if the night turns chilly, we'll be glad to have it."

"Oh," Ezra had responded, nodding but not looking terribly convinced at the idea.

"It'll be fun," Annie had promised, a sorrow catching her – apparently the boy had never been on a picnic. How strange, but he always was an unusual boy. "It's Independence Day," she continued. "We always have a picnic."

But it had been over five years since she attended her last celebration. Five years of sitting alone in her home as everyone in town paraded past her door to the picnic grounds. Five years of standing on her porch and yearning toward the fireworks that she couldn't see from her dark yard. Five years without Harry.

She'd tried not to feel lonely, but she'd always had someone to take care of her, to protect her. First, there'd been her father and then Harry. It had been an easy way to live. She didn't have to worry about anything. It was a perfect and pristine life. And then they were gone.

As the years passed, she became used to loneliness, because it was all that was left to her. Still, on Independence Day, she'd felt particular apart from everyone. Gracious townsfolk remembered to call on the less-fortunates on Christmas, but no one had time for a drab, housebound widow on such an exciting day as the Fourth of July. There was too much fun to be had elsewhere.

She had to change - had to, because of a clever little boy who needed someone.

So they'd packed the blanket, sandwiches, a jar of lemonade and jar of pickles. "Too many pickles?" Annie had asked as she hefted the heavy jar. She'd made them the previous year and this was the last jar in her pantry.

Ezra had shrugged, not knowing the correct amount. It was more than the two of them could eat, but they packed the whole container nonetheless. A few more items made their way into the basket, and then, finding the container too heavy to be easily lifted by one, they shared the burden as they walked to the park.

She glanced up, wondering if the shady tree she'd chosen would block their view. No one else was near this spot – it must have been deficient in some way. She glanced at the other picnickers, all looking so confident in their locales. Perhaps they should move toward those others – maybe closer to that crowd further up the hill.

"Oh," she suddenly exclaimed as she realized something. "I forgot to bring something sweet for dessert." She frowned at her lack of foresight.

"It'll be all right, Auntie Annie," Ezra told her. "You'll see."

She decided not to pout. Quickly, they set up for the day. There would be several hours until night fell, so they'd brought books to pass the time, but they didn't have a chance to open them when a small group strode up.

"Hello, Mrs. Greer," Mr. John Beverly stated with a smile. "Hello, Ezra." He was an older gentleman, short with thinning graying hair, toting a heavy basket of his own. The Beverlys lived down the street from Annie.

Dolores walked beside her husband with the blankets. A young woman followed with a child in her arms.

"Mr. Beverly," Annie called as she and Ezra stood to greet them. "How are you and Mrs. Beverly this fine day?"

"Right as rain," Mr. Beverly replied. "You remember our daughter, Maggie, don't you? She's visiting. Maggie, do you remember Annie Greer?"

"Of course. Maggie, how good to see you again. It's been so long," Annie greeted the young woman warmly.

Maggie smiled. "I'm happy we found you." She was a pretty, petite girl, with rosy cheeks and dark hair. "It's so nice to find a friendly face."

"This is my nephew, Ezra," Annie introduced, laying one hand on the boy's shoulder. It had become easier to tell the lie as time went on - easier because she had come to believe it, to wish it true.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," Ezra greeted, taking her hand.

"What a little gentleman," Maggie cried with a laugh as she shook the boy's hand, and then swung her young child to the ground. "This is Johnny," she explained. "He's come to see his grandparents."

"He's named for me," Mr. Beverly stated, proudly.

"That's why we have to call him Johnny, so his grandpa doesn't get too puffed up," Dolores added with a wry smile.

The Beverlys set up their blanket beside Annie's and the two young women chatted amicably, while the old people stretched out on their blanket and eventually napped. Ezra played with the busy toddler. Maggie had lost her husband, too, so the women found a sad common ground as they talked.

Annie's corner of the world became more crowded as neighbors and friends found them, and set up their picnics nearby. Emma Chan came with her grown daughter, Lydia. They brought a small feast with them, along with a box that they kept secret. The mystery drove Ezra to distraction. He kept turning his head toward the wooden crate that Emma used as a chair, trying to decipher the mysterious Chinese characters on the label. Emma, when she stood to take a walk, gave guard duty to her daughter and foiled the hovering youth's plan of attack. She smiled at his cross expression, telling him to be patient - that good things happened to those who wait.

Ezra would have nothing to do with waiting. "But, Mrs. Chan," he stated, a whine creeping into his voice. "A little peek would hurt no one and would allow me to prepare. Patience is not one of my virtues. I prefer to know now and get it over with."

The Chinese woman laughed and shook her head.

Annie smiled, saying, "Patience will suit you well."

Ezra just frowned.

Beneath the shady tree, friends congregated. The park filled. From time to time, Annie would look about, surprised by the group that had gathered around her. She kept seeking, eager to find one particular gentleman in the mix, but that lawman was nowhere in sight. She let out a dissatisfied breath, knowing that the police officers of the town had duties to perform and not everyone could have a free day on this holiday. Still, it seemed silly that Aaron Costello had to work elsewhere when nearly the entire town was here. It would have been nice to see him.

Unconsciously, she brought her hands to her cheeks, wondering if she blushed. Ezra gave her a concerned look when he saw her worried expression.

"Are you feeling all right, Auntie Annie?" he asked. "Is it too hot for you?"

To cover her actions, Annie picked up her fan. "Just a little," she said truthfully.

"You should step back into the shade," the boy decided, noting that the sun had changed enough to expose the spot where she was currently sitting. The child offered his hand to help his aunt stand. Once she was settled a few feet back, Ezra asked quietly, "May I go see those boys?" He indicated a small cluster of children pushing sticks into the lake.

"Of course," Annie replied with a smile, glad that Ezra might have some little friends. "Have fun and be good."

Ezra gave her a sly look for that comment. When he started to walk away, Johnny waddled after, crying out plaintively. Ezra extended a hand and the toddler gleefully caught up with him. The older boy smiled down on the younger one and then turned toward the adults. "I'll be careful with him," Ezra promised Maggie. "I won't let him get wet."

The woman smiled and thanked Ezra, and the boys walked hand-in-hand toward the other children and the lakeside. Annie paid little attention to the rest of the ladies' conversation; Fanning themselves in the heat, Emma, Lydia, Dolores and the other women twittered away. The men huddled together and laughed in their deep voices. Annie gazed after _'her boy.'_

There was a pause in activity at the lakeside as Ezra and little Johnny met up with the others. The boys seemed to be summing them up. They said little to the newcomers, returning to their boats.

Annie watched Ezra help his small charge pick a good piece of wood and then send it sailing. _He had such a serious expression,_ Annie thought, as she observed her 'nephew'. _He looks as if this is the most important thing in the world._ The wood floated further away, while Johnny pointed and babbled. Ezra picked up another piece of wood and held it out, describing something to the little boy. Johnny watched Ezra's every move in fascination.

Some of the boys started wrestling - a good-natured fight, but Ezra was sure to keep little Johnny out of it. The two moved a few steps away and continued to build boats out of bits of debris. Ezra fashioned a tiny sloop out of discarded paper, a stick and a bit of wood. Johnny jumped about in delight.

Ezra explained something in depth to the tot. Johnny nodded enthusiastically and seemed to be prattling on about something as he watched the older boy cobble together a little boat out of bits of garbage. Ezra handed the handmade craft to Johnny and motioned the boy to the water's edge. As Johnny crouched down by the lake, Ezra grabbed onto the back of the little one's shirt to secure him.

Johnny launched the craft. It floated out a few feet and the little boy clapped his hands gleefully. It was a terrific boat! But it slowed in the water, then, regrettably, rapidly took on water and sank. The toddler let out a heart-rending cry as the paper sail disappeared beneath the water. Maggie, who'd been watching just as intensely as Annie, let out a sigh as her boy wailed. Johnny pointed to the spot where the boat had disappeared, looking to Ezra as if the older boy might be capable of solving any problem. Ezra squatted down on his heels, looking disappointed at his failure, but he spoke quietly to the boy and soon the little one was laughing.

Annie met Maggie's eyes and the two women smiled at each other. The disaster was averted as the next boat proved to be more seaworthy. The other boys moved off - after new adventures - leaving Ezra and the little boy behind. Ezra gazed after them, but made no move to follow - staying instead by the lake with Johnny.

Suddenly, not far from Annie, a man shouted, "Attention everyone." Mr. Henderson, the town's mayor, stood in the clearing and waved to the gathered throng. He announced that the games were about to begin.

Ezra came back toward his aunt, patiently walking with the little boy, smiling brightly. "He didn't get wet," Ezra told the mother. "I made sure of that."

"You are such a good young man," Maggie said earnestly. "Johnny sure had fun with you. Thank you for being so nice to him."

Ezra dipped his head, embarrassed by her compliments. "Well," he said. "We were just having a bit of fun. I didn't do anything in particular for him."

"I know how much work it is to keep this boy entertained," Maggie returned. "He's such an active little one. Always getting into everything. Wanting to know how everything works." She regarded her son and the way he looked up at the older boy. "Looks like you've made yourself a friend for life."

Ezra nodded at this comment, but his expression seemed to say that he had no comprehension of such an idea. Johnny grinned up at him before letting go of Ezra's hand to return to his mother.

A finish line was set up on the field, near Annie's blanket and spectators drew closer. On the field, two of the town's police officers, Mr. Banks and Mr. Whitman, brought out armloads of potato sacks. They dumped them on the ground and gestured to the crowd. Soon boys and girls came running to meet them.

Ezra sat down beside his aunt, ready to observe what was about to happen. They watched as the kids grabbed sacks from the pile and lined up. The big, burly Campbell boys shoved their way into the center of the pack, wanting what they figured was the 'best' position.

"You can join them, Ezra," Annie stated, leaning close to her boy.

Ezra's gaze flicked to meet hers, and then returned to the children as they found a place at the starting line. "I'm not sure how it's done," he answered simply, watching as the children stepped into the bags. "I have no intention of making a fool of myself," he continued quietly.

"Oh, everyone will look a little silly at this," Annie told him.

With a scowl, the boy stated, "Then I'll want no part of it. I have no intention of showing everyone how inept I am at a simple game."

Annie didn't know what to say at first. How had this child been raised? Was he never allowed to fail? Then how could he learn anything?

"It's easy," Annie told him. "It's a sack race. You won't have any trouble understanding. When Mr. Henderson says 'Go', you hop to the finish." Still seeing a dissatisfied expression on the child, she added, "I know it's hard to try things when you don't really know how, but sometimes one needs to be a little brave."

Ezra lifted his head at this comment, and gazed back at her with his intense green eyes. He seemed to come to a decision, because he nodded, then stood and walked out onto the field toward Mr. Banks.

"Hey, Ezra. I was wondering where you were," Banks stated as he handed Ezra a bag. "Saved one for you. I figured you'd show up for a contest." He was one of the men who regularly played poker with the boy, a rotund and cheerful man who always seemed to be sweating. "I bet you're as good at this as you are at cards," Banks said as he mopped his brow. "I'm afraid that the prize won't be matchsticks this time," he laughed. "But you may win a ribbon and something sweet."

Ezra raised his eyes to meet the officer's. "There're prizes?" he asked quietly as he took the bag from Banks.

"Wonderful treats baked by ladies of our town and ribbon awards. Give it a try, boy. You can't win anything if you don't get in the game."

Ezra examined the bag for a moment, wrinkling his nose at its condition. He threw Annie a pleading look, apparently distressed about its smell.

She smiled and shook her head at him - no, he couldn't back out of it now.

Ezra slung the bag over one arm and hurried toward the other kids. Annie stood to watch him go. The line was thick now, leaving no easy space for him. The children were all chatting loudly, giggling excitedly, waiting for the race to start. In a few moments, they were off in a hopping confusion. Ezra tripped up immediately, landing with an 'ooof' as the other children charged off chaotically. He staggered back to his feet, tangled up in the bag. He sighed exasperatedly as he tried to hop and keep his balance, falling more than once. He'd only made it partway down the field when the winners crossed the finish line: Billy and Rob Campbell won first and second, followed by Jimmy Turcotte. The crowd applauded as ribbons were handed out and the winners were given cakes baked by local women.

Ezra returned the bag to Mr. Banks. The policeman gave the boy a thump on the back. "That was a good try, Ezra," he said confidently.

The boy shrugged. "It was miserable," he muttered.

Immediately, the next race was called – a potato race. The children were given spoons and spuds – needing to carry a tuber across the finish line using the utensil to balance it. Ezra lined up with his props, and gave it his best try, but he'd ended up with an ungainly potato that he couldn't quite keep in the spoon as he ran with the other children.

With a sad heart, Annie watched as Ezra picked his potato up for the third time while the winners were announced. Two of the Campbell boys were eliminated for cheating, using their thumbs to anchor their spuds, but Rob made second place.

"Good job, Ezra," Mr. Beverly commented as the boy returned.

"Yes, a good try," Emma Chan added, smiling sweetly.

Ezra nodded absently, saying, "Yes, sir. Yes, ma'am. But I failed horribly." He sat down with a grunt, his disappointment evident.

At that moment, Johnny pulled free of his mother's lap and toddled across the blankets to sit down with a THUMP beside Ezra. He began chattering away, excited about something, trying to tell Ezra all about it. The tot, when given an audience - any sort of audience - could talk non-stop.

"Everyone!" Henderson's voice boomed as he raised his hands. "Time to choose partners! It's the three-legged race."

Ezra patted Johnny's head and stood. Anxiously, he glanced about, searching for someone that might be his partner – but old friendships won out. Every child in sight already had someone in mind. The pairs made their way to the start line, and waited for Mr. Banks and Mr. Whitman to tie their 'middle' legs together. Ezra let out a low breath and was about to sit down again, when a shape came running down the hill at them.

"Partner!" the man shouted as he scooped up the startled boy. Aaron Costello gave Annie a quick grin as he slung the boy over his shoulder without breaking his stride and darted with the boy toward the starting line.

Ezra, facing backward, gave Annie a stunned look that broke into a wide grin as Officer Costello bounced him about.

Annie watched, her hands clasped before her, as Aaron dumped Ezra to his feet. Mr. Banks and Mr. Henderson approached the pair. They spoke in low voices, undistinguishable at that distance, but their body language relayed enough for Annie to understand what was going on.

There was a problem. Aaron was a tall, powerful-looking man, towering over the line of children. Mayor Henderson seemed to be protesting, but Banks was making placating gestures at him as he wiped his sweaty face with a handkerchief. While the mayor fumed, Whitman slipped in behind them and did a quick job of tying Aaron and Ezra's legs together. Mr. Whitman grinned at Ezra as he worked. Banks finally gestured to the work – apparently declaring to Mayor Henderson that since they were ready to go, they'd might as well let them play.

Henderson scowled, not happy with the adult in the line-up, but he figured it wasn't worth fighting with the law. Annie's attention rested on the boy. Ezra was beaming, glancing up to Aaron with obvious admiration. The tall officer, clamped one hand on Ezra's shoulder, and smiled down on him. They looked ridiculous together. Ezra seemed to come only halfway up Aaron's frame – one small boy and one large man – their legs were of such different lengths, it seemed impossible that they'd be able to walk at all.

Annie stood to get a better view.

The racers were ordered to "Get Ready… Get set!" At the call, "Go!" Aaron tugged Ezra to his side and simply walked across the field - his huge stride eating up the field. Ezra clung to him like a leech. Behind them, the children struggled with each other – trying to walk as one.

"Fee Fie Foe Fum!" Aaron growled as he made his way forward. "Here comes the giant!" The children squealed and Ezra laughed, wrapping his arms around Aaron's waist as he was easily carried along. The openhearted laughter was music to Annie's ears.

Annie laughed, watching the spectacle, glad that she had a 'front row' view. Mr. Costello did look like a giant among all those children! As he came closer, far in the lead, he turned to her and smiled. Annie couldn't help but look into his lovely dark eyes – so full of mirth and life - so dark brown, they looked like chocolate. She could gaze into them forever. His lips were so full and…

 _Oh!_ She held her hands over her face, as if her expression might betray her thoughts.

The team was within a foot of winning when they jerked to a stop.

"OH! The agony!" Aaron shouted, overacting as he clutched his unbound side. "A stitch! I got a stitch in my side!" Ezra just clung to him, looking anxiously behind them as the other teams started to catch up with them.

Little Johnny stood, waving his hands at Ezra finding his new friend was so near. He wobbled across the blanket and onto the field. Ezra, spotting the child's imminent danger as another pair of contestants stumbled closer, shouted, "Johnny! Johnny, look out!" He twisted in Aaron's grip, trying to reach down and grab the little boy.

Aaron, spotting Johnny, swept up the toddler, easily placing him on his shoulders. The Peterson girls, laughing to the point where they almost couldn't walk, ambled past them, crossing the finish line first. Then came Jimmy Turcotte with his friend Freddy. Aaron Costello took one final step, carrying the boys along with him, fitting them into third place.

Ezra grinned as he was handed his yellow ribbon, hardly noticing that his leg was being untied. Aaron received one as well, but presented his to Johnny. The tot looked at the big man in awe, and then flailed the ribbon about gleefully.

Once they all returned to Annie's blanket, Ezra stood before the tall lawman, bowed his head and uttered, "Thank you, Mr. Costello. That was fun." He fiddled with the ribbon, and then looked up to the officer with a dimpled smile.

"Hey," Aaron returned. "It was fun for me, too. I had a grand time. Why don't you show Mrs. Beverly that ribbon of yours? She seems keen to see it. I want to take a look at those gingersnaps we won."

Ezra brought the ribbon around for each of their party to see. Johnny followed with his. When he reached Annie, Ezra handed the prize to his aunt. "See what we won?" he asked quietly.

Annie gently held the piece of yellow ribbon. She adjusted her glasses to better read the writing, stitched in black - 3 Leg - 3rd Place. "It's quite fine, Ezra."

The boy admitted, "Mr. Costello really did all the work. I was just carried. I did nothing."

Annie smiled sadly at Ezra's suddenly dour expression. "Sometimes," she stated sagely, "One needs a little help."

Ezra stepped closer to his aunt to assure that only she heard, "But I always take care of myself."

Annie held out her hands, capturing the boy's shoulders, wishing that this child understood. "It's okay to let someone carry you every now and again," she said softly.

"I couldn't have done it without you," Aaron added as he stuffed a cookie into his mouth. He chewed noisily. He added, "And I think you deserve an award just for keeping this little one from getting trampled. Those girls would have flattened him like a pancake."

"Ezra, would you like me to pin it on your shirt?" Annie asked. When she received a quiet nod in return, she removed a hairpin from her hair and used it to secure the prize to Ezra's shirt. Johnny came next, holding out his ribbon for similar treatment. Annie laughed, finding another pin and securing the second ribbon. Johnny toddled off, excited to show off to his mother.

Aaron claimed a portion of the blanket for himself, and declared that he required more than a normal share of the cookies because he had worked so hard. He was indulged, and Annie passed him the box several times. Everyone pulled out their suppers. Aaron, not bringing his own picnic lunch, sampled a little bit from everyone's basket – declaring Annie's home-cured pickles the best of everything. After the baskets had been emptied and the cookies finished, Aaron lit a cigar and leaned back. He smiled serenely. Annie sat not far from him, trying to look composed.

Dusk fell, and where the day had been hot, the night turned cool. Emma Chan finally pulled out the secret box that she'd brought, bringing relief to the anxious boy who'd pondered over it for so long.

Of course, Ezra's excitement only grew when the contents were revealed - fireworks. The game field was still empty and it became the perfect place to blow off Mrs. Chan's explosives. Ezra picked up a string of firecrackers, furrowing his brow as he tried to figure out what they were. He glanced to his aunt, holding them before him in puzzlement.

 _Ah, poor boy,_ Annie thought. _He doesn't even know what a firecracker is. I can't understand how a child could know so much and yet so little._

Aaron snatched the explosives from Ezra, and lit the string with his cigar. He tossed it into the open area and Ezra jumped back as they started popping. His alarm lasted only a moment, quickly replaced with an ear-to-ear grin. Soon Aaron was setting off more strings of them and Ezra danced about as explosions followed. Little Johnny held his ears and made unhappy faces, but managed to keep from crying as he watched Ezra's glee. He even smiled when Ezra laughed uproariously.

Aaron and the other officers played powder monkeys – claiming the task of lighting off the little 'bombs'. They were like overgrown boys, rushing about in their hurry to set off all Emma's fireworks before the town's displays began. Annie watched as vivid fountains of light and color erupted from little paper cones. She tried not to be alarmed by Ezra's obvious fascination with the firecrackers.

"For you," Emma said, handing Annie the final cone. Annie adjusted her glasses as she gazed at the strange characters written across the paper. She gave Emma a curious glance. The shopkeeper smiled. "You like the fireworks. You can light this one."

"Oh no," Annie instantly declared, "I can't. That's man's work."

Emma made a sour face and pointed to the strange and beautiful characters on the wrapper. "Nowhere does it say 'not for ladies'."

With a quick shake of the head, Annie explained, shoving it back toward Emma, "I'm not… I'm not brave enough to light it."

Emma refused to take it. "You don't need to be brave - just confident. You are a confident lady. I can see it. You must light this one. It's the best of all." Emma nodded decisively. "This is the 'Golden Dragon with Many Lights'." She smiled, her eyes shining in the dimness. "It is very lucky."

"But I don't need luck," Annie returned, still trying to hand the explosive back to Emma.

"A little, maybe?" Emma replied quietly, turning her head to Ezra as the boy set off another string of firecrackers – they leapt about as they popped and Ezra leapt with them. Aaron and the other men laughed. Little Johnny held his ears and watched with a tender smile, safe in his mother's arms.

The last cracker spent, Ezra approached the little boy. His eyes bright with excitement, he spoke to the toddler, making sure he was okay. The dark-haired tot nodded and smiled.

Annie watched her nephew, watched as he spoke to the little boy, assuring him. Then Ezra glanced toward her. He smiled and waved.

How long would she be able to keep that boy? How long would he be part of her life? If only she could stop time and keep him forever. If such a thing could happen, she would never have to feel so timid and hopeless again. It would take more courage than she currently had.

Mrs. Chan told her, "It only takes a little bravery to do something new - just a very little bit."

With a confident nod, Annie turned and strode out into the field, littered with finished fireworks. She set down the cone where she thought would be best. Beside her, something moved and she turned to find Aaron. He handed her a lit punk. "Just touch it to that fuse until it lights, and back away fast," he told her as her hand closed on the lit stick. He smiled at her, meeting her poor dirt-brown eyes with his warm chocolate ones. Then, after a moment, he moved away.

Looking around, Annie noticed that the whole town seemed to be focused on her. They'd come down from their own little areas to watch their fireworks. Little boys, grown men, women, old ladies, shopkeepers, lawyers, police officers, dairymen and dressmakers, all of them turning toward her and watching as she bent over the Chinese fireworks.

She drew in a breath as she gazed at the little fuse. The punk in her hand smoldered _. I only need to be a little bit brave,_ she reminded herself. _Just a little._

Trying not to tremble, she extended her hand, letting the end of the punk touch the fuse. She exhaled, ready to jerk the stick away the instant it lit. It took a few anxious seconds, but suddenly the fuse hissed to life. She spun away and – right into Aaron, who'd been standing so close behind her. He laughed as he grasped her to keep her from falling and backed way with her, only letting loose his grip when they were safely away. The Golden Dragon with Many Lights burst into life.

Annie watched as the little cone sent up a tremendous shower of yellow fire. Higher and higher, it leapt into the night. Ezra came to stand beside her, and she watched as the firework illuminated him. He was smiling widely, watching in fascination as the cone put up a magnificent display.

It crackled. It burst. It popped. It shed tremendous light across the littered ground. Spectators 'oohed and ahhed' as the Golden Dragon thrashed. She could almost see it, flailing its tail in the bursting lights. As it flashed, Annie wondered if she could even hope to keep Ezra. What if -what if Maude never came back? Or, what if Maude couldn't find them?

She could leave town. The sudden thought excited her. Yes, she could pack up all her belongings and run away with the boy. Annie pulled Ezra close to herself, squeezing him. What if they started over in a new town? It would be frightening, but they could manage. She had enough savings, didn't she? If she could keep him forever, she'd be capable of doing almost anything.

How would his mother feel? How would Maude feel if she went in search of her Ezra, but couldn't find him? What if she lost her son forever? Annie put herself in Maude's place and imagined her anguish.

At that moment, Golden Dragon stopped. It spit up a last few sparks and died into the night. Annie stood, with Ezra held tight, wanting more.

Ezra turned to his aunt and whispered, "That was wonderful!" he declared. "Could there be anything better?"

At that moment, as if to answer his question, a rocket spiraled high into the sky. The crowd turned to watch the aerial display begin - the main entertainment for the night. Annie sank down to her blanket, drawing Ezra beside her and pulled the ends of the blanket up around them, wrapping the two of them in its warmth. And then she brought one arm around his shoulder and he leaned into her.

Around them, the others settled in. Mr. and Mrs. Beverly hugged each other beneath a warm shawl. Emma and Lydia Chan whispered quietly together. Maggie held her Johnny as the boy gazed in wonder at the sky. Mr. Costello sat down nearby, watching the sky and everything around them, the glow of his cigar illuminating his face.

 _Could there be anything better,'_ Ezra had asked. Annie pondered on that question. _Could there?_

 _Perhaps,_ she thought, _perhaps I can keep him. But if I can't, I'll do everything I can for him - to let him know that he is loved, that he is wanted - to let him remember these days with joy._

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

"Hey, Ez," JD called as Ezra descended the stairs from his room above the saloon.

"Mr. Dunne," Ezra returned, tugging at his heavy wool coat, making certain that the lines were as perfect as possible.

JD closed the book he was reading. "Cold enough for ya?" The kid nodded to the window where the wind blew harsh and icy. Within the saloon, the stove popped and warmed.

Theatrically, Ezra shuddered. "It's much too cold for my tastes. I prefer warmer, more hospitable climes. Will January never end?"

"Oh, give it a while," JD said with a laugh. "It'll be too hot in a couple months."

"Quite true," Ezra conceded as he approached the young sheriff's table. "July is always just around the corner."

"What d'ya got there?" JD asked as he nodded to the item in Ezra's hand.

Ezra extended the book to his compatriot. "Something to keep you occupied over these frigid months. The Count of Monte Cristo," Ezra explained. "I thought you might find some appreciation of it. I have enjoyed it many times."

JD looked skeptical. "Looks pretty big." He displayed his own flimsy book to Ezra. "I don't know if I'd like the same sorta books you like, Ez. I like them a bit easier."

"Easy does not mean better." Ezra retorted, "I believe that Shootout at Shootout Town might have less literary merit than Dumas."

"Oh, that's not what it says," JD said petulantly, turning his book to see the title. "It's Shootout at Shotgun Ranch."

"Ah, entirely different," Ezra returned with a grin. He set the book down on the table before Dunne. "In any case, give it a try. "

"Nah," JD said with a shake of his head. "Thanks for the offer, Ezra, but I really don't think I'll like it. The stuff you read is too – ah -educated." JD looked a little embarrassed. "I'm just not the kinda person who reads 'Great Literature'."

"Ridiculous!" Ezra scoffed. "It's called 'Great Literature' because it's _great_. And this particular tome is _great_ for many reasons. "Its plot is thoroughly engaging. The protagonist is exceptional." He paused as he noted JD's unhappy expression. "I meant to say, 'it's a good story and you'll like the guy." Ezra continued, "There's plenty of action to keep you interested: fights, double-crosses, vengeance, daring escapes, mysterious strangers..." He sighed contentedly before he added one last item, "…and a tremendous fortune."

"Yeah?" JD responded, his interest piqued. "Sounds all right." He set down his own book and turned Ezra's toward him.

"It takes a brave man to try something new," Ezra told him. "Stretch your wings a bit, Mr. Dunne."

"Thanks, Ezra," JD responded.

"No problem," Ezra returned as he turned to go. "Enjoy."

"Don't know when I'll get it back to you."

"Worry not. Take your time."

Idly, JD flipped through the pages, looking for an interesting paragraph. The pages stopped as he thumbed them and Dunne opened the book fully, finding a worn bit of yellow ribbon with black words stitched onto it. Curiously, he pulled the frayed thing out of the pages and examined it. "3rd Place – 3 Leg," he read aloud.

Ezra, who was preparing himself to meet the chill outdoors, stopped dead in his tracks and spun about. "What was that?" he queried.

JD held the ribbon aloft. "Bookmark," he stated.

With a silly grin, Ezra quickly closed the distance to the table and took the ribbon from JD. "So that's where it was. I haven't seen it in years. I thought it was gone forever." The ribbon was very faded and the edges were so frayed that they seemed to be nothing more than a mess of unfinished strings. Ezra must have been using it as a bookmark for ages, JD figured.

Thoughtfully, Ezra ran one finger through the fray.

JD cocked his head, watching his friend carefully. "You know," Dunne said curiously. "It looks a lot like one I had long time ago. Back when I was a kid, there used to be a ribbon like that pinned up on my wall. I had it for years and years. I don't even remember why, but I loved it. My ma told me I won it in a race when I wasn't yet two. I find that kinda hard to believe, though. I mean, how does a kid that young win a three-legged race? Funny, huh?" He nodded to the ribbon in Ezra's hands. "What a coincidence."

Ezra gave John Dunne a piercing look. He seemed to be examining the young man, and his careful scrutiny made the younger man uncomfortable. "Ezra?" JD asked. "Everything all right?"

"Mr. Dunne," Ezra paused and licked his lips. "By any chance, was your mother's name 'Maggie'?"

His chin dropping a fraction, JD answered, "Yeah, her name was Margaret, but everyone called her Maggie."

"And was her maiden name Beverly?"

JD was stunned. "Yeah, it was?"

"And did she, by chance, call you Johnny?"

JD blushed. "Yeah," he conceded quietly. "Back when I was real little. I kinda grew out of it. I guess that's why everyone calls me JD now. I was named after my grand-dad. How did you know that?"

Ezra's smile only grew as he extended a hand. JD shook it, not knowing why.

"Partner," Ezra declared, grinning still.

"Yeah," JD said with a nod, "Pards."

Ezra laughed as he turned and headed toward the door. "The world…" he declared as he walked, "…is a very small place." He looked again at the little yellow ribbon in his hand. His expression was tender and thoughtful as he carefully placed it in his pocket. He turned back toward JD and added, "And I am glad that you're in it." With that, he hunched his shoulders, drew his chin to his chest and pressed open the doors. A cold wind took him away.

Dunne watched his friend go, pondering Ezra's questions and actions, wondering how he'd known is mother's name. He furrowed his brow, thinking about that ribbon with the careful stitching, wondering about the cardsharp. He couldn't remember when he'd lost his similar ribbon, but now that he recalled its existence, he felt its loss.

 _'Can't quite figure him out,'_ JD thought as he flipped the pages of the book _. 'But I guess that's the way I like him. He's usually right when he tells me I'll like something. Don't think he's ever led me astray.'_ JD smiled then, flipping to the first page of the book to give it a try.

THE END 


	5. Facts About Cats

**_RATING_** _: G  
_ _ **CATEGORY**_ _: Challenge - Annie Greer Saga  
_ _ **MAJOR CHARACTERS**_ _: Ezra and OFC - Annie Greer  
_ _ **DISCLAIMERS**_ _: This is fanfiction. No profit involved. This story is based on the television series "The Magnificent Seven". No infringement upon the copyrights held by CBS, MGM, TNN, The Hallmark Station, Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp. or any others involved with that production is intended. No infringement upon the copyrights held by Timbuk3 or Pat McDonald is intended either  
_ _ **SUMMARY**_ _: August 2004 Songfic Challenge offered by JBrooks: Write us a story inspired by a song.  
_ _ **ACKNOWLEDGMENTS**_ _: Pat McDonald of Timbuk3 for "Facts about Cats". The lyrics are listed at the end of the story._

 ** _AWARDS_** _:_ 2006 Mistresses Of Malarkey "Best Gen Series" Award and 'Perfect' Award _  
_ _ **DATE**_ _: Originally posted August 24, 2004_

 **The Annie Greer Saga – Part 5**

 **Facts about Cats**  
 _By NotTasha_

* * *

Annie Greer looked for the boy. It was a common activity for her. Ezra was usually nearby, but he had a habit of disappearing – he'd flit in and out of sight, like a mote of dust caught momentarily in sunlight and sent back into shadow – here and then gone. It was his nature, she decided. But she was the kind of person who liked to put her hand to things, who liked to know exactly what she had in front of her, who liked to know where her boy was. So she looked.

She knew that he was somewhere about the house. He wouldn't have left without telling her and they were planning to go for a promenade together later.

When he was at home, Ezra was usually helping her with chores, reading or continuing his trials at the piano. Her house held more music than it used to, more laughter. It seemed to breathe now with fresh air, seemed to delight in daylight. Where once, her quaint house was like a prison, it was a home again.

The weather was hot; the birds were twittering in the trees. A lovely day.

They'd leave for their walk when she found him. The breeze might be blowing by the lake and the park would be buzzing with happy people.

She searched for Ezra, slowly making her way through one room and then another, not calling for him. She wanted to happen upon him, as if it were by accident. He didn't seem to be within, so she turned her attention to the yard. Hopefully, he wasn't on the roof again. The boy certainly enjoyed heights and his proclivity to climb scared the daylights out of her.

Standing in her kitchen, she gazed out into the little backyard that Mr. Whistler helped tend. If the gardener were here, the boy would be at his side, no doubt, asking him questions, pestering and helping him. Ezra would always manage to find the least strenuous tasks in the garden, the chores that might allow one to stay clean. The old man seemed to appreciate the company in any case.

But it was Friday, so Mr. Whistler would be elsewhere. Annie gazed out her back window, searching. The yard appeared empty at first glance. Scanning for him, Annie's eyes lit upon something else moving in her yard. Her eyes narrowed.

A cat stole across the grass, walking with a certain arrogance– a big white cat with large tabby spots that looked like continents in a creamy sea. The neighbor cat, aptly named Cartography, moved cautiously with his head low – as if ready to dart off at any sudden movement.

Annie felt a blush of anger reach her. It was that killer! That murderer of birds. How dare he even contemplate entering her yard again! Oh! He was a fiend!

She strode to the back door and slammed it open. Plates rattled on the shelves and a teacup on the table wobbled on its saucer. At the sudden sound, the cat twisted toward her.

"Get out!" she shouted. "Get out! Get out!" and standing in the doorway, she frantically flapped her apron at the interloper, looking furious and ridiculous at the same time.

The cat spun and darted off at an astonishing speed. An Africa-shaped spot appeared to be falling off its hindquarters as the cat made a great leap, reaching the top of her fence. It ran across the brace and paused. The cat's steady golden gaze reached her and it gave her an imperious look before leaping over to disappear into the neighboring yard.

Ezra, sitting on the porch steps, jumped to his feet. "Auntie Annie," he cried. His eyes were wide with surprise. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Annie paused, still flustered. She took a moment to smooth her apron, reminding herself to calm down. "Ezra… that cat…" and she strained to complete her thought.

"Cartography," Ezra filled in. How he'd learned the cat's name was anyone's guess. Annie knew it because the chagrinned neighbors that had brought her a potted plant after a particularly nasty massacre under her cherry tree.

"Ezra, we can't let that cat in the yard," she finally stated. "It knows it's not supposed to be here."

"But why?" Ezra asked, staring toward the fence where the cat had disappeared. "Carty's friendly."

"Don't let him fool you." Annie crossed her arms across her chest. "He's an awful, awful cat!"

Ezra ducked his head and stated, "He lets me pet his head and he likes it when I scratch him under his chin. He seems to be a good enough cat."

"He kills birds, Ezra." Annie looked up apprehensively to the branches of her tree, wondering about the safety of the flock. The finches, bluebirds and chickadees, so merrily piping earlier, had all grown silent. "He's always killing the birds. I chase him out every time he comes into the yard. And I thought he'd finally learned that he wasn't wanted here." She frowned, her arms tight against her breast. "He's an awful creature."

Ezra bit his lip and furrowed his brow as he thought. He asked in a quiet voice, "Can he come into the yard if I make sure he doesn't eat any of the birds?"

"You can't change a cat, Ezra," Annie told him. "Cats will be cats."

"I promise, I'll watch him whenever I'm home." Ezra moved closer to her. "I'll show him what's right. I'll teach him to be good. You can chase him away when I'm not here to watch him."

Annie sighed, not wanting anything to do with a cat, but the beseeching look on Ezra's face cut a swath through her heart. How could she deny the boy anything? He asked for so little.

Still, it had taken the better part of a year to teach that cat to avoid her yard. Dozens of beautiful songbirds had been slaughtered before it had learned that lesson. What would happen if she started allowing it to return?

"He's not a good cat, Ezra. Maybe I can find a kitten. A kitten that could be taught right from wrong, from the start. It could be taught right from wrong and wouldn't do terrible things. Would you like a kitten, Ezra? It could be all yours."

Ezra made a strange face, both excited and unhappy at the same time. "No thank you, Auntie Annie," he answered, his eyes downcast. "That wouldn't be appropriate as I have no idea how long I will be here."

There it was, that thought that always came to Annie at the worst times – Ezra would have to leave eventually. He had no permanence – he was that mote of dust left at the will of the wind.

Ezra continued with that same pensive expression, "I thought, perhaps, Carty could be like a pet to me – without the troubles of ownership. Keeping something for good is never without penalties. He comes when I call him." Ezra lifted his eyes and met hers. "Please?" he softly asked. "I swear, if he even looks at the birds, I'll chase him out myself. I'm very good at watching things. I'm very observant." And his eyes were wide and unbelievably green.

"Well…" Annie started, feeling all of her resolve crumbling.

"Thank you!" Ezra exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Annie's waist as he hugged her. "He'll be no trouble at all! I'll take care of everything. You'll see."

Annie sighed, wondering what she was getting into.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

The days were long and hot as August sauntered past. Ezra spent part of every day in the yard, doing his best to fulfill his promise. Annie sat by her kitchen window one afternoon, watching him. Ezra leaned against the cherry tree as he held a book in one hand, reading as if he would never get his fill.

Annie considered joining Ezra until she saw the big spotted cat strolling through her yard. She felt her ire rising. She strode to the door, laid a hand on the latch, ready to thrust it open and shout at the awful animal - but she'd made a promise to Ezra.

She suspected that many people had made promises to the boy, yet she figured few had managed to keep them. She could keep this agreement. It was a small thing, really. Let him play with the cat. She trusted Ezra to keep up his end of the bargain. Maybe he _could_ retrain the malicious feline.

Ezra sat up as he took note of the intruder. The cat froze and the two creatures stared at each other expectantly. Ezra made an encouraging motion, patting the ground beside him, and the cat continued, choosing a winding path through the grass to be near the boy. It accepted a careful scratch between its ears, just between the British Isles. When Ezra removed his hand, the cat butted his shoulder, then laid down in the cool shade to keep the boy company.

As she puttered around the house, Annie watched that cat – watched that boy. Whenever the cat would stiffen, eyes upon the branches of her trees, whenever that tail thrashed on the grass, Ezra would give the cat a distracting pat. He'd talk to it, whisper intently, scratch him in those special spots - and the cat would forget about the birds, enjoying the gentle ministrations of the boy.

It did seem to be a good cat, Annie thought, watching the cat raise a paw and gently, playfully bat at the boy – not like her own mother's cat, Patches. That cat would bite when it became tired of her attention. Cartography rolled onto his back and twisted about, seeming to smile at the boy.

Maybe, Annie thought, just maybe, Ezra could change that cat. It certainly seemed possible, as she watched Ezra set aside the book to fashion a toy from a long piece of grass. He sent the cat running after a make-believe mouse. He laughed as the cat pounced. He brought the shaft of grass upward and the cat leaped. The boy shouted happily.

The cat, perhaps, was salvageable. Maybe it could be retrained to be a respectable creature. The cat stopped its antics and rubbed against the boy, making Ezra smile. The animal couldn't be all bad - if it loved her Ezra, Annie decided.

Suddenly, she didn't loathe the spotted cat any longer, and she watched contentedly as the boy continued to play with the animal.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

Annie spent the morning sorting through fabric in the parlor, intent on making Ezra new clothing. The boy was outgrowing what he came with and needed something new. She searched for the fabrics she had long ago purchased for her Harold, but it was all rather dull. She contemplated something bright for the energetic lad.

A knock at the door drew her activity to a stop. The hour was too early for Mr. Ryder, the postman. She set down the pile of fabric and smiled when she saw two of the townswomen. Mrs. Leary and Mrs. Kraus stood on her porch. Buttercup Leary held her mouth as if she'd just tasted lemons. Martha Kraus kept her hands tightly in front of her, her expression claiming that she really didn't want to be there.

 _Well, what's all this about_ , Annie thought as she pushed a stray hair out of the way, tucking it into the bun at the back of her head. She opened the door and cheerfully greeted them. The women smiled tight little smiles.

"Good morning, Mrs. Greer," Mrs. Leary returned her salutation.

"Won't you come in?" Annie invited, opening the door wide.

"Thank you, Mrs. Greer," Mrs. Kraus uttered as she moved into Annie's house. She gave Annie an uncomfortable smile.

"It's always so nice to have visitors," Annie chatted as she showed them into her home. She directed them away from the parlor, currently occupied with too many bits and pieces of her fabric inventory. Leading them to her kitchen table, she said, "I've been having so many guests lately. It's really delightful to get to know my neighbors and I'm so glad you stopped by. Would you like some tea?"

Martha looked as if she wanted to say, 'yes', but Buttercup quickly responded for both of them. "No, Mrs. Greer, I'm afraid we don't have time for such niceties."

"Oh," Annie responded, wondering at Mrs. Leary's curt sound.

The visitors found seats at the table. Mrs. Kraus took a moment to get comfortable while Annie fretted as she waited, finally taking a seat when both of her guests were situated. "What can I do for you?" Annie asked.

"It's about the boy," Buttercup got right to the point.

"Ezra?" Annie responded, surprised.

"Is he here?" Martha asked, looking about the room as if the child might materialize.

"No, no…" Annie replied. "He's gone to Mrs. Chan's grocery."

"The Chinese woman?" Mrs. Leary made a face.

Martha asked, "So, he'll be home soon?"

"Oh no," Annie replied with a little laugh. "He'll probably be there most of the day. He likes to help her unpack when she gets new shipments. He's always coming home with marvelous stories of what exotic things she's brought in. Who knows when he'll be back."

"So, he's not under your control?" Buttercup asked.

"My Control?" Annie questioned. "I usually know where he is. He tells me before he goes. He'll be back before dinner, but he enjoys exploring on his own."

Buttercup creased her forehead. "Do you think that's wise?"

"Wise?" Annie echoed and then smiled warmly. "He's quite independent," she explained.

Martha bit her lip and Buttercup let out a groan. "Independent is the wrong word," Buttercup corrected. "What he is, is a troublemaker."

"Ezra?" Annie exclaimed, startled by this comment. "No, he's a good boy."

"Trouble," Mrs. Leary reiterated. "Why, I hear he's been a terror to half the town!"

Annie's face fell. "No, he's not. He's a well-behaved gentleman."

"Oh," Mrs. Leary went on, "I have information from credible sources that begs to differ."

Annie looked unimpressed. "What did you hear?"

"He's been harassing the Campbells," Buttercup stated. "…And Pastor Branson."

"Pastor Branson likes him," Annie returned, feeling her back stiffen, wondering how the Campbell family and Pastor Branson could equate to 'half the town'.

Martha told her, "Pastor Branson was so upset when that boy got up into the steeple! He was red faced and light-headed and had to lay down for the rest of the day."

"He was only afraid for Ezra," Annie explained.

"That child is a naughty boy who can't behave civilly!" Buttercup said with a pout. "A boy climbing a church steeple! It's unconscionable! He nearly killed Pastor Branson with his shenanigans."

"I told him not to do that again," Annie said as calmly as she could, but she could feel a heat of indignation rising in her. "And he hasn't been up there again. Pastor Branson was fine. He was just a bit excited is all."

"So you say," Mrs. Leary said with a sniff. "Let's not forget that the child has been in the company of a bad element in town."

"Bad element? In this town?" Annie responded.

"He was playing cards in the Meadows Tavern," Buttercup told her. "Any child that spends time with those sorts of people will be ruined, beyond saving."

"Months ago!" Annie countered. "And he hasn't gone again since I told him he couldn't."

"And you believe that?" Mrs. Leary asked leadingly.

"I do," Annie responded with conviction.

Martha leaned forward, pressing her ample belly against the table as she told her friend, "Nobody's seen him there for months, Buttercup. Maybe he did stop going."

"The damage is already done," Mrs. Leary decided with a harrumph. "He's probably spent most of his life in a bar. Dreadful place for anyone. That can't help but ruin a child. He'll never grow up to be a normal, decent man."

"He will," Annie insisted.

"Science has proven against it," Buttercup said with a nod. "Then, there are the older boys up on Post Street. Your boy gambles with them."

"He plays marbles."

"It's gambling just the same," Buttercup pointed out. "A child should know better than to be with ill-bred boys like that. He'll turn out just like them, no doubt."

"They seemed like good boys to me," Annie defended, thinking of the older boys who'd let Ezra in on their games – who'd encouraged him to come back. They were the only children that Ezra had made friends with in town. There weren't any others that lived nearby. They'd come by the house a few times looking for him and always spoke civilly to her. "I see nothing wrong with them just because they don't have all the niceties."

"As if you could be trusted to judge," Buttercup countered. "I've raised three of them myself. Good upstanding children. I don't think that boy knows how to behave correctly. I don't think he can." She raised her chin and said derisively, "We all know where he came from."

Martha continued, sympathetically, "We know what his mother was and how she left him."

Annie's frown increased, annoyed that so many people had found out about Ezra's origin. "What's that have to do with anything?"

"He has bad blood," Buttercup continued. "His mother is a felon, no doubt. She's probably imprisoned as we speak and that's why she hasn't returned. Either that, or she's figured that he isn't worth returning for. In any case, she has trained him to be a criminal as well. He's headed down that same path."

"Bound for jail… or worse," Martha said, clucking sadly.

"He's a bad one," Buttercup further illuminated.

"He's not bad," Annie sharply responded.

"He is," Buttercup corrected her. "He was born bad and has been brought up bad. He's destined to turn into something immoral. It's been proven by scientists! I heard they've done experiments with orphans to prove it. There's no denying science, is there?" She continued in the same haughty tone, "We need you to keep him under control. To stop him from desecrating our holy church again. He needs to be kept from those Post Street boys. He should never hurt innocent people like the Campbells."

Martha said softly, "I saw him laughing after he left that package of… of…" She blushed and waved her chubby hands, negating any need to say the foul word. "… in front of the Campbells store and then lit it on fire!"

"Horrendous beast!" Buttercup growled. "People could have gotten hurt, killed even! Playing with fire! He should have been locked up, but …" and Mrs. Leary's face took on an even nastier expression as she stated, "Because you have a certain friend in the police office, the boy was able to go home instead of to jail! The child deserves a good flogging. It probably won't fix him, but it might teach him a lesson. He'll never amount to anything good."

Annie stood in one quick movement. "You need to go," she said brusquely.

Martha stood, looking sympathetic, and turned to her companion. Buttercup remained planted in her seat. "I want to discuss what you're going to do about him," Mrs. Leary continued.

"You need to go. Now," Annie said, her brow furrowed.

Martha moved a step or two toward the door, and glanced to Buttercup again.

"We came here to have a discussion with you," Mrs. Leary uttered.

"Nothing you say is worth listening to," Annie said, wanting to calm the beating of her heart, to quell the heat that reached her face.

"Butty!" Martha cried. "Mrs. Greer asked us to leave. We're going now."

"But, Martha!" Buttercup insisted.

"We're leaving," the large woman said sharply to her companion. She turned to Annie and repeated in a softer tone, "We're leaving now. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

Buttercup grumbled as she stood. "Mark my words," Mrs. Leary uttered. "That boy will come to no good. He's a wicked delinquent who'll be nothing but a thief. Nobody will want him, and you'd best be rid of him as soon as possible." She threw back her head and started toward the hallway.

Annie blocked her. "You listen to me!" she hissed with more anger than she thought possible. "You don't know anything about Ezra. He's had nothing but strife in his life, nothing but loneliness, yet he's turning out to be a wonderful young man. He's funny and thoughtful, and smart and dedicated and sweet and patient…" Annie stopped to take a breath before continuing with, "And he's full of life and he doesn't suffer fools. That's something I need to learn about. Now get out of my house before I throw you out!"

Buttercup made a startled gasp and Martha covered her mouth.

"Why, I never!" Mrs. Leary exclaimed, turning. "Come on, Martha. We're leaving!" and she stomped to the front door.

Martha gave Annie a strange look, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, before she turned and followed her scurrying friend, catching the door before it slammed shut.

Annie followed to the door so that she could stare out the front window and watch them go. Her breath heaved in her chest. She felt angry and sad at the same time and she stomped her foot in frustration, in a rage over the small-mindedness of some people. How dare she talk about Ezra like that! The imprudent woman knew nothing about her boy!

She turned sharply and walked through her home, searching for some privacy - to sit, to calm down, to put aside the vile comments of Buttercup Leary. She had to quiet her racing heart, get some control on her galloping emotions. She headed to the rear porch.

Annie came to an abrupt halt as she looked through the rear doorway's pane. Two figures rested on the top step.

Ezra sat with his back to the door, and the cat with the map of the world sat beside him. The boy's posture was stiff, his hands tucked in front of him. The cat's bearing had a contemplative quality, its head bowed, as it sat beside the boy.

They weren't touching each other – they were just quietly poised on the top step as if the entire universe revolved around them.

Beside her, the curtain on an open window moved in the light breeze. Annie let loose a low breath, realizing that the conversation at the kitchen table must have carried to that back porch. Had he heard everything?

With a heavy heart, she started to open the door. The alert cat turned, spotting Annie at the window. Its dark pupils widened to fill its eyes. It hesitated a moment before leaving the boy's side. But another glance over its shoulder sent it darting off. Ezra raised one hand, lightly running it over the continents of Europe and Asia as the cat made its dash for the fence.

The boy didn't turn as she opened the door. He must have realized she was coming. She came beside him, fussing with her skirts until she could sit down on the porch step beside him.

Before she could speak, Ezra said softly, "I can't help it. I just can't stop myself sometimes."

"They didn't mean what they said," Annie tried.

"But they did," the boy responded. "They meant every word of it."

Annie tried, "I don't believe any of it." When the boy said nothing, Annie said, "I think you're a good boy."

Ezra kept his head down, not daring to look at her. "It's like they said," the boy commented. "I was born bad and will always be bad. My mother even tells me so."

"She told you that you were bad?" Annie exclaimed, incredulous.

"She said I have talent," Ezra corrected. "Talent for certain nefarious schemes. She says I was born to it. I have nimble hands, excellent for pick pocketing and stacking a deck; I have a capable mind best suited for the art of the con; and an able memory that is best used for counting cards and finding the weaknesses of others. She tells me it would be a waste for me to attempt any other profession."

"But you can use those same talents for other things," Annie explained.

"It's all I know," Ezra said softly, eyeing the porch step below his feet.

"You don't have to take that path." She smiled and softly said, "Listen, you can start by leaving the Campbells alone."

Ezra sneered and finally looked up to his Aunt. "They started it!" he defended. "They started by charging you too much for your groceries. It was shameful what they were doing. And you weren't the only one. I told other folk about what they'd done, and the Campbells they started getting rude."

"It's time you let them be, Ezra," Annie tried to scold. "They'll leave you alone if you stop pestering them."

"They're mean to Mrs. Chan," Ezra said softly. "They called her awful names and told people that she sold dog meat in her store. They hurt her." The boy rested his arms on his knees. "I made them pay for that."

"Ezra, dear," Annie started. "You can't be mean to the Campbells anymore."

Ezra nodded and poked at the step with the toe of his foot. "I'll try."

"And maybe you shouldn't go down to Post Street anymore." She heard Ezra's intake of breath, so she continued. "Those boys are too old for you and some of them may be trouble."

"I can take care of myself," Ezra answered surely. "And we're only playing marbles."

"Please, Ezra," Annie said quietly. "Try to behave."

Ezra sighed and nodded. "I'll try to be good," he said softly.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

For the week that followed, Ezra swore he'd stopped his campaign against the Campbell family. Emma Chan later told Mrs. Greer that the Learys had always been good friends with the Campbells, so there was little wonder why Buttercup had come calling that day.

The Campbells gave her smug smiles as she passed their store. She was certain she heard them laughing behind her back.

When questioned about how the Campbells had treated her, Emma Chan was philosophical. "Sometimes," she said, "People hurt what they don't understand."

Early one morning, Annie caught the Emma and her daughter, hurriedly washing down the front of their store. Both wore stony expressions as the scrubbed at the windows and siding. When Emma looked up and met Annie's gaze, Mrs. Chan said quickly. "It's nothing. A joke." She smiled joylessly. A few rotten melon rinds still littered the walk outside their door, tell-taling that someone had pelted the store with the fruit. When Annie offered to help, Emma shook her head, and said that they were nearly done, and asked Annie to go on her way, to not tell anyone, especially not Ezra.

Annie didn't miss the hurt look on her friend's face.

And Ezra had been well-behaved. There'd been no more talk of rude behavior and no further pranks about the town. He was as good as gold. It made the boy seem sadder as he moved about her house – it made him quiet.

Officer Costello talked to Annie one afternoon, asking about the boy. "He's changed," Aaron said. "Is he all right?"

Annie noted the change, too, and tried to make Ezra happy. She taught him new tunes on the piano – but a stillness seemed to follow the boy – a quiet that didn't fit him.

Annie met Buttercup Leary in town one day, and the lady was congenial, telling Annie how proud she was that her visit had changed the boy's behavior, how glad she was that the little scamp was acting more like a gentleman. It was good for the whole town.

But Emma and Aaron, and other friends weren't sure what to make of the somber child. Mr. Whistler, Mr. Ryder and the Beverlys, the cigar shop owner, the barber, the Post Street boys, Pastor Branson, nearly anyone Annie came in contact with seemed to miss the boy they'd come to know - and wanted to know what was wrong.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

Annie and Ezra arrived home one day, after visiting the park. Mrs. Greer walked into the house, while Ezra circled around the outside, looking for his little companion. Annie had walked as far as the kitchen, when she heard Ezra shouting frantically.

She hurried through the back door, horrified at what she might find. She barely caught sight of the terrified spotted cat as it leapt onto the fence. Its ears were back as it darted up and over, disappearing from her yard in a flash. A hail of rocks and sticks followed Cartography's departure.

"Get out! GET OUT OF HERE!" the boy was shouting, still finding projectiles to throw at the fence. They made a tremendous racket as they bombarded the space where the cat had disappeared. "Never come back! NEVER! YOU'RE NOT WANTED!" and a particularly large rock crashed against the fence, splintering one of the planks. "Nobody wants you!"

"Ezra!" Annie shouted, running down the rear steps.

"You're an awful cat!" and more rocks flew. "Bad!"

"Ezra! Ezra!" Annie cried, holding up her hands toward the distraught boy.

Ezra let the last stone drop as he turned to her. His voice became a hushed whisper as he stated, "I tried."

"What's wrong, Ezra? What happened?" she asked, laying her hands on his shoulders.

The boy pointed. "He's no good. He's never going to be good. He's always going to be bad!" Ezra cried, revealing the bloody pile of blue feathers near the base of the cherry tree.

Annie's gaze dropped to the sad little remains of a bluebird, and for once her pity didn't rest with the bird.

"He can't be changed!" Ezra shouted, and with that, the boy spun from her grasp and ran.

"Ezra!" Annie called after, but the boy was gone.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

Annie waited in the parlor, not in one of the plush chairs, but rather in the big old rocking chair. It had been her mother's and she'd brought it to this house as a reminder of her. Rocking made her feel better – she'd spent months in the rocker after Harold had passed. She'd not needed it since Ezra came to stay with her.

She listened to the house, waiting until she heard a creak at the door that let her know that the boy was back. He entered quietly, slinking across the floor.

"Ezra," she called softly to the shadow that crept toward the stairs. The shape cringed and then the boy came into the soft light of the parlor. "Ezra, are you all right?"

"I'm sorry, Aunt Annie," Ezra said contritely, head bowed. "I shouldn't have been so rude." He buried his hands in his pockets as he added, "I'll make certain that the cat doesn't come back. I was wrong about everything. He couldn't be changed."

"Come here, Ezra," Annie called, holding out a hand. The boy came closer, lingered a moment outside her reach, but stepped nearer when her arm didn't lower. She grasped his hand.

"I'm so sorry about the bird," Ezra murmured. "I really tried to make Carty good. I thought I could teach him." He shrugged and continued, "There's just no changing some things."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It wasn't meant to work out," Ezra continued, still holding Annie's hand, but staying a step away from her. "Some just can't be made good, no matter how hard someone tries."

"You're a good boy, Ezra," she whispered.

The boy made a soft sound and then muttered, "I know what I am. I know what I'm supposed to be. There's no changing it."

In the dim room, still holding the boy's hand, Annie whispered, "I like you just the way you are and wouldn't change it for anything."

He said nothing immediately, then, in a low voice, uttered, "You don't care what I am?"

Annie smiled wistfully. "I think I might rather like you this way." She smiled, gazing at Ezra's perplexed expression. "It keeps things lively. It makes my life exciting. I'm tired of a quiet little house and I don't want a 'perfect boy'. I like Ezra. I want you to be happy."

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

"Mrs. Greer," a deep, genial voice called. Annie turned to Officer Costello as she paused on her walk through town. He smiled at her, his eyes warm and brown, he held his hands behind him as he stood so regally in his uniform.

"Officer Costello," she returned and smiled as well. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Delightful," he responded, sidling up beside her. "And getting better by the moment."

Annie let him draw near, enjoying his presence. She felt like a silly girl with him so close.

Aaron stated, "Awfully good to see Ezra happy. He seemed so sad before. I missed him. It's nice to see some spirit in him again. "

"I wouldn't have him any other way," Annie responded with a little laugh.

"And speaking of 'spirit'…" Costello cocked his head as he watched the Campbell family lined up in front of their store. Someone had splattered the entire façade with eggs, and the disgusting matter had dried hard in the Sunday sun. "Strange weather we've been having," he commented offhand.

Annie covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hide a giggle, before she responded, "A very odd rain indeed."

Aaron rolled his eyes, pausing as he gazed upward, to the roof of the courthouse. "At least it's not the church steeple this time," he commented softly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm afraid I may need to take a turn through some of the backstreets of town." He tipped his hat and swinging his baton, slipped into a convenient alley, moving quickly to avoid the Campbells before they noticed the lawman on the street.

Annie shook her head, watching as the Campbells labored in their Sunday best. They didn't look so smug now. Too upset with the vandalism to their store, they hadn't thought of changing into more appropriate clothing. She turned, glancing upward to where Aaron had indicated and finally caught sight of her boy.

Up at the clock tower of the courthouse, Ezra crouched, remaining unseen by the grocers. He smirked as he held onto the roof, watching intently to the scene below. Something caught his eye and he turned to see his guardian.

His expression changed, and Annie saw the worry flit across his features. She smiled at him, unable to find any expression that would be more appropriate. And he returned her expression with a relieved grin of his own. He waved with his free hand, and she made a little wave of her own, doing her best not to reveal his position.

He looked happy. He looked madly happy on that rooftop, watching the results of his work. Seeming satisfied, he let loose his hold and crab-walked toward the far side of the roof to dismount.

She turned, not wanting to see him scrambled down from his high perch. Already, her heart was beating fast in fear for him. But as she walked home, she couldn't hide the quiet delight she felt in seeing the boy enjoy himself again.

She'd only managed to walk a block or so when a fast moving creature came to her side, and a hand reached out to take hers. She looked down, meeting the bright eyes of her Ezra. He grinned up at her, his face flush with excitement and exertion. She smiled back, and he let his other arm swing as they walked.

They headed home.

He was a good boy, Annie knew. She loved him for his every flaw, and she wouldn't change him for the world. She only hoped that she'd be able to keep him with her long enough to convince the boy of how wonderful he truly was.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

"Ezra!" Buck shouted up to the gambler's window. "Get your britches down here, on the pronto!"

The window slammed open and Ezra appeared, pulling on his suspenders. "Trouble?"

"With a capita and you know the rest," Buck called up. "Get down here now! You're needed."

"Right," Ezra responded and disappeared from the window, to emerge moments later from the front door of the saloon, pulling on his jacket. "What's up, Buck? Desperados? A bank robbery in process." He had one hand on the gun at his hip. "A prison break? A river in flood? Stampede?"

"Miss Esmerelda needs a dance partner," Buck told him as he led the way.

"What?" Ezra squawked.

"I want to take Miss Ruby dancin', but she won't go without her sister. And since her name sounds so much like yours, you were the first person I thought of," Buck explained.

Ezra came to a halt. "You rousted me from my afternoon siesta to help you with a woman?"

"Now, now, I have never needed help with a woman!" Buck corrected hotly. "I just need a little help..."

"With a woman," Ezra completed.

Buck ran a hand over his face. "Ruby wants to come dancing, but Esmerelda is just sitting around the house, giving her a long face."

"It's a damn shame, but I was plannin' a night at the tables. A nap would've been beneficial."

Buck went on, "Their mama is really particular about who takes the girls out dancin'. She won't accept just anyone. When I brought up your name, she gave the go ahead."

"I pass muster? That family must set their sights rather low." Ezra paused and regarded Wilmington. "I've been told that I'm a ne'er-do-well."

"That's true," Buck said. "But apparently, they think you're a good enough fella. They'll trust you with their darling girl."

Ezra smiled at that, and then tipped his head. "Of course, they're okay with you, so possibly anything goes?"

"The mama likes me!" Buck insisted. "Most mamas like me," he said. "I just got a way with women."

"That's the rumor," Ezra responded.

"The parents think you're a good fellow."

"Misguided," Ezra commented.

"Most folk around here feel the same," Buck said, and received a thoughtful look from his friend. "So, you willin' to help? Come on, Ezra. I really need this. Ruby has been leadin' me on for a while now. You're a pal. You'd help out a brother, wouldn't you?"

"Brother?" Erza repeated. "What's in it for me, brother?"

"A night of dancin' with the excellent Miss Esmerelda."

"Who, I hear from good sources, has two left feet."

"A challenge for you then," Buck said. "You are always braggin' about your prowess on the dancefloor. Let's see how good you really are."

"Hmmm," Ezra responded. "A challenge?"

"Yeah, Ezra, a challenge."

"Nope, not enough. I repeat – what's in it for me?"

Buck sighed, lifting and dropping his hands. "You know we ain't gettin' paid until the end of the week."

"You couldn't afford me in any case," Ezra responded. "Let me think." He paused and touched his lips as he thought. A smile and a snap of the fingers, and he said. "Ha! I've realized an excellent and affordable solution, designed just for you. What say you take my next patrol?"

"Done!" Buck put out his hand.

"Tomorrow morning," Ezra completed as he shook the hand.

"Nuts!" Buck cried. "You usually don't do mornings." And then, "Hey, you got that shift because you traded Nathan. You wanted to take his Ridge City job, so Nathan made you take his morning shift."

"Indeed, I did. Now I get to go dancin' this afternoon, gamblin' tonight, I have tomorrow morning off, and this weekend, I'll be in Ridge City while you plebeians continue your labors here." He grinned like the cat that swallowed the canary.

"You're always up to something," Buck muttered.

"It's to keep you on your toes," Ezra said. "I wouldn't want you to become complacent."

Buck chuckled as he shook his head, and gestured in the direction empty lot on the corner where the big dance was getting started. "It's always a pleasure dealin' with you, Ezra," Buck said in an exasperated tone.

"Of course, Mr. Wilmington," Ezra said. "Always a pleasure."

 **THE END**

 _._

 **Facts about Cats** – Timbuk3 - Written by Pat MacDonald

Well, Rocking Robin said "Oh mama, please,  
I'm begging you down on bended knees  
I wanna go down, wanna jump and shout  
Down on the corner where the cats hang out  
Down on the corner where the cats hang out."

Her mama said "Rockin, you're making me cry,  
But a robin's gotta rock, and a bird's gotta fly  
but before you go jumping, go out rocking tonight  
It's time that I tell you a few facts of life  
It's time that I tell you a few facts of life"

 _Chorus:_  
"Cats will be cats, and cats will be cruel  
Cats can be callous, and cats can be cool  
Cats will be cats, remember these words  
Cats will be cats, and cats eat birds  
Cats will be cats, and cats eat birds"

"So Robin, get wise, use good sense,  
And better brush up on your self-defense  
It's a jungle out there, and hunger strikes deep  
Better take care, better watch where you sleep  
Better take care, better watch where you sleep."

 _Chorus:_  
"Cats will be cats, and cats will be cruel  
Cats can be callous, and cats can be cool  
Cats will be cats, remember these words  
Cats will be cats, and cats eat birds  
Cats will be cats, and cats eat birds"  
 **\- by Pat MacDonald**


	6. Good Neighbors - NEW

**_RATING_** _: G  
_ _ **CATEGORY**_ _: Challenge - Annie Greer Saga  
_ _ **MAJOR CHARACTERS**_ _: Ezra and OFC - Annie Greer  
_ _ **DISCLAIMERS**_ _: This is fanfiction. No profit involved. This story is based on the television series "The Magnificent Seven". No infringement upon the copyrights held by CBS, MGM, TNN, The Hallmark Station, Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp. or any others involved with that production is intended.  
_ _ **SUMMARY**_ _: Just another moment in young Ezra's life with his Auntie Annie. They go visiting old neighbors_

 ** _DATE_** _: August 28, 2015_

 **The Annie Greer Saga – Part 6**

 **Good Neighbors**

 _By NotTasha_

Annie Greer was working her embroidery in the parlor when Ezra came down the stairs. He paused when he saw her and lifted the book in his hand. "This one just isn't going to work," he said.

Annie frowned, and motioned him to come closer. "Why not? I've always been fond of it."

The boy shrugged. "It's not even English."

"It _is_ English," Annie insisted. "It's Middle English."

Ezra grimaced. "It's too hard to get through."

She took the book from him and opened it to the first page. She squinted at the print. "It takes a little work, but I promise, once you get started, it will come clear. It just takes perseverance and desire to understand it."

"But there are so many others that are easier to read," Ezra said, gesturing in the direction of her bookcase.

"When has 'easy' equated to 'good'?" Annie asked.

He sighed and said, "I like easy."

"Some things deserve extra time and patience."

"But, Auntie Annie," Ezra said petulantly. "I'm not exactly patient."

She smiled. She'd known the boy for five months now, and in spite of his words, she found he could be remarkably patient for some things.

Oh, he always looked for the easiest way to do anything - to find whatever means brought him what he wanted with the least amount of effort - but he could spend an entire afternoon trying to master a tune on the pianoforte.

He would spend all evening playing poker at the police station if the men didn't send him home.

He would wait for as long as necessary for the postman, Mr. Ryder, to come with the daily mail. He waited with the same anticipation and reply to him with the polite responses, only to fall again to the same quiet disappointment when no letter arrived from his mother.

Still, his patience was waning in that endeavor.

Five months now. Maude had promised that she'd return in a month. Annie wondered how many promises had been broken by Ezra's mother. Ezra didn't seem surprised by her absence. Obviously, this was familiar to him.

"Patience is a virtue," Annie remaindered.

Ezra laughed. "My family is not known for its virtues."

Knowing the truth of the matter, she flipped pages of the old book. "The stories are delightful and many are funny. And some are rather…" and she paused, remembering. "Well, some are quite adult and perhaps not appropriate for a child." She shut the book with a snap and tucked it away from him, under a pillow. "It's probably best that you don't go any further."

That changed things. His interest piqued, Ezra stretched his neck as if he could get a view of the hidden book. "I'm not so young," he said.

Annie smiled at that. "Well, I don't know."

He drew in a breath and said, "I promise I will try again and honestly attempt to understand it. I won't be harmed by any of the content." He made a gesture, stating, "And I will stop reading immediately if anything becomes too untoward."

Slowly, she pulled the book out, trying not to grin. "If you promise…"

"I do! I promise," Ezra said, restraining himself for a moment before he reached out to take the book from her hand.

At that moment, someone rapped on the door, and Ezra nearly dropped the book in surprise.

Annie couldn't restrain her laugh as she stood. "Mr. Conrad is here," she told him. "Are you ready?"

Ezra clutched the book for a moment, before nodding quickly and saying, "I just need to put this away and I'll be right back."

She smiled after him as the boy bounded up the stairs. She stood and went to open the front door.

Mr. Conrad stood smiling. "Annie, dear Annie," the man said, reaching out to hug her. "It's been too long."

And it had been too long. Seven years had passed since she'd last seen her old neighbor. He'd aged in that time, grown whiter and more wrinkled. She almost cried at the sight of him, remembering her own father. They embraced and it was a little like hugging her father again.

He stepped back suddenly and said, "This must be Ezra?"

The boy had appeared at her side, looking anxious and ready to go.

"Yes, yes," she said, "He's my nephew. Ezra, this is Mr. Timothy Conrad. He was my neighbor when I was growing up. I told you about him."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Conrad," the boy said formally, extending a hand.

The older man chuckled and accepted the handshake. "Pleased to meet you as well," he returned. "He's quite adult, isn't he?'

Ezra made an exasperated sound, and Annie rested a hand on his shoulder. "He's going to start school soon in town."

"School," Mr. Conrad repeated. "I guess it is September already. Are you excited to go?"

And Ezra had that same expression that he'd used when she first mentioned it. He looked strangely resigned. "Yes, sir," he said. "It will be nice."

Not knowing what to make of the response, Conrad turned to Annie and gestured to the waiting wagon. "Are you ready?"

Annie nodded, and Mr. Conrad led the way. She smiled as they made their way through the gate. A few months ago, and she would have never even imagined this little journey. She couldn't have walked through the gate and now, she was going outside of town—for the first time in seven years.

"Is this Demon and Devil?" she asked as they drew closer to the matched black horses. The nearest one stamped in his traces.

"They sure are," Conrad told her. "Still going strong."

She patted the flank of one of the big horses. Ezra looked dubious as he stood behind her.

"Don't worry," Conrad said. "They're pussycats."

"They why did you name them like that?" the boy asked, not getting any closer. "They sound dangerous."

Conrad laughed. "It makes people wary of them," he said. "Folks won't mess with my horses when they hear those names. You can pat Demon, if you'd like."

Ezra narrowed his eyes and then shook his head. "No thank you, sir," he said. "I don't really get along with horses."

"Your loss," Conrad said, and helped Annie into the wagon.

Once she was settled, Ezra quickly scrambled up after her. He smiled as he looked about, ready for an adventure.

Annie looked back at her home. Was she really taking a ride? She'd walked all over town in the past few months, but this was something different. She took Ezra's hand, and she felt him give her a little squeeze. She looked down to see his dimpled smile and couldn't help but smile herself.

Mr. Conrad settled himself into his seat and took up the reins. "Off we go," he said cheerfully.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

The wagon jogged over the rutted ground. Ezra glanced to Annie, then returned his gaze to their surroundings. He was always so excited to see new things, even this quiet sojourn into the farming area seemed to draw something from him.

She knew every house and yard, every post and ditch along this road. In her youth, she'd traveled this way often as she left her parents' home to visit the town. It was a joy to see it all again – a world long shut off, reopened again.

Here was a familiar face, a remembered barn, a tree, a hedge, a garden – all the same. And then, little differences leaped out at her – a new shed, a missing tree, a different dog, a changed shade of paint on the trim of a porch. Pansies now instead of nasturtiums. So much the same, so much different.

From her closed off little world, it had seemed like these places didn't exist any longer. It was good to know that life continued – as it must.

They moved past fewer houses as the world opened to large fields and then an orchard full of apple trees.

Mr. Conrad pulled back suddenly, bringing Demon and Devil to a halt. The horses pawed at the ground, not ready for the stop. They were nearly home and were obviously anxious to return to their own barn.

"Did you want to see it?" Conrad asked her, his voice quiet and serious.

Annie let out a sigh and looked for the road. The path was nearly grown in, hardly more than a bare patch here and there, disappearing into an apple orchard. Weeds choked the space between the trees. The fence was awash in morning glories. One of the railings had fallen.

Someone must have been picking the apples, but dozens littered the ground under the branches, all buzzing with bees. A few apples still fought for a place, while a riot of suckers grew up from every branch. Soon the trees be too choked to produce anything.

Her father would be so disappointed. Someone should be tending the orchard, she realized, but Harry knew nothing about apples, and she hadn't had the wherewithal to manage it herself once he was gone.

She'd grown up among those trees, in the little gray house nestled deep within them. She closed her eyes, picturing the old place – with the swing in the yard and the wide porch that wrapped all the way around. A huge oak tree. A playhouse that her father had built for her. A light-colored horse waiting for a ride. Blue shutters and flowers growing in the window boxes. She remembered the petunias, even though there had been no flowers since her mother had died.

In her mind, she recalled the house, frozen in that time, not as she'd last seen it at the age of 20, but rather when she was 12, while her mother still lived.

The house only existed in her mind now. A fire had erased it shortly after she'd married Harry. The conflagration had taken her father along with it, and she'd seen no reason to return since then. Harry never pushed.

Eyes still closed, she clutched at Ezra's hand, who didn't loosen his hold. No, there was no need to see the blackened spot, no need to remember hearing the news that her father was gone so soon after her marriage.

If she had been living with her father, she would have awakened in time. She was always a light sleeper.

There was no reason to see the place again. Let that old image remain – the yellow petunias and the blue shutters and the swing.

She shook her head and remained silent.

The wagon jerked and started forward again. She didn't open her eyes again until they were past the apple orchard and made their way to where the Conrads' grew pears.

Ezra was looking up at her, concerned.

Without any encouragement, the horses turned onto a side road and brought the wagon through the orchard. Annie was glad to see familiar Conrad home come into sight. She'd missed their pretty white house with the gazebo.

Mrs. Conrad came out to the porch to greet her and she kissed her cheek when they reached her. "Oh, Annie, dear Annie," the woman said warmly. "It's so very good to see you again. It has been so long!" She walked with a cane now and had difficulty with the steps at the front of the house. She was more trapped than Annie had been.

"This is Mrs. Lorraine Conrad," Annie introduced. And Ezra, just as formally as before, shook her hand. It made the older lady laugh.

She fussed over Ezra and brought him into the kitchen for cookies and lemonade, moving with greater difficulty than Annie remembered. Annie almost followed to help, but then she caught sight of the dapple-grey horse in the pasture.

"Is that Old Austen?"

Mr. Conrad laughed as he worked at unharnessing his horses. "Yes, indeed. Retired and enjoying a life of leisure. I think your father would approve."

Annie smiled at him sweetly and then went to greet the familiar horse. The grey pricked up her ears at the sound of her approach and whickered happily. She ambled to the fence to meet up with Annie.

"Hello, Austen. Remember me?" the woman said softly, reaching out one hand. The old mare tossed her head and whinnied. Annie smiled, running a hand through the horse's mane and cooed her name.

She'd ridden this mare as a girl. She remembered her father lifting her onto the horse's bare back, and gentle Austen had carried her as they followed her father through the orchard. A sweeter horse had never been known.

The horse pressed her head against her chest, and Annie scratched between her ears. "You're such a good girl," she said quietly. "Lovely lady. Oh, how I've missed you."

There was a quiet rustle and then Ezra was beside her, eating a cookie. "Is this your horse?" he asked quietly.

"She was my father's," Annie replied. "And she's a clever thing, isn't she?" At the tone of her voice, Austen snorted and nodded as if in agreement. "That's right. Are you the clever girl?" And again, Austen nodded.

"Does she really know what you're saying?" Ezra asked, fascinated.

The horse turned her big eyes on the boy and lowered her head to investigate. Ezra squealed as the horse went after the remainder of the cookie in his hand. It was gone in the wink of an eye.

Annie laughed at Ezra's expression – astonished, annoyed and delighted all at the same time.

"She's a terrible sweet-tooth," Annie said. "Papa used candies to train her. Mama used to chide him for it, saying it wasn't good for horses, but Papa spoiled her horribly." She stopped talking suddenly, aware that she'd used such old names for her parents. Seeing the old horse and the Conrads had returned her to another place and time.

Ezra had stepped back when the horse had stooped toward him earlier. He watched the animal with a calculated expression. "She knows tricks?" he asked, looking up at Annie with hopeful eyes.

"Well, let's see. Do you still dance, Austen?" Annie asked, bobbing her head. "Dance?"

With that, Austen mimicked her, bobbing her head back and forth for a moment, and then putting her whole body into it, stepping this way and that. Annie smiled a little sadly, noting that her movements were less fluid than they used to be. There was a time Austen would nearly leap from side to side.

Ezra watched in fascination.

"I bet you would do a good job training a horse," Annie said, expecting Ezra to perk up at the word 'bet'. It always drew the boy's interest.

Instead, he looked solemn. "I didn't manage to tame Cartography's behavior," he reminded.

"But Carty is a cat. A horse is a reasonable creature."

"I stayed for a while with a man in Tennessee. He was trainin' a horse," Ezra said. "He sored her legs, blistering them, and put weights with extra nails on her hooves. It hurt her to walk, so she stepped high." He lowered his head. "He said that's how to train a horse."

Annie turned sharply toward him. "That's not how you do it."

"He said it made her walk pretty."

Annie furrowed her brow as she scratched at Austen's great head. "You watched him do it?"

Ezra nodded, looking guilty. "I… I had to help," he said quietly. "She never liked me, that horse. I think she wanted to stomp me down." He frowned. "That man, he treated his slaves abysmally, too. I spent last summer with him."

Annie frowned at this news. Ezra had told her that he had been left with different people while Maude went about her business untethered. His hollow tone gave Annie no doubt that it was an unhappy time for the boy. "Your mother left you there?" she asked.

Ezra shrugged. "She was misled."

Annie felt robbed of that summer. If only Maude had found her earlier, she might have had Ezra a year sooner, spent an earlier summer with him.

Returning her gaze to sweet Austen, Annie gave the mare a friendly scratch on the neck as if she needed reassurance after Ezra's telling. "My father would never hurt Austen," she explained to Ezra. "He trained her only with kindness, sweets and, of course, time. It took a lot of time and patience and repetition. Oh, my father had the patience of a saint. She could be stubborn at times, but he won her over. I could show you more of her tricks," she said.

Ezra smiled brightly at that. "I'll get more cookies," he said and bolted back toward the Conrad house.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

They returned to Annie's little house late in the afternoon, after spending a friendly lunch in the Conrads' home. Annie found Ezra in his room, reading the book that had finally enticed him.

He looked up at her entrance. "It must have been nice," he said quietly.

"What's that, Ezra?"

"To grow up in one place. To know those people all your life," Ezra said, his voice at an even tone. "To have a home that you could visit any time you wanted."

Annie nodded, reminding herself that the house itself was gone.

"And you had the same neighbors that whole time?" Ezra continued.

"Yes," Annie continued. "Good neighbors are a blessing."

"I'd like to see them again," Ezra said, dipping his head to the book. "Maybe we could go look at your old house next time?"

"It's gone, Ezra," Annie told him. "It's burned down. Only the outbuildings are still standing."

"Oh," Ezra said, lifting his head and looking genuinely saddened at that news. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too," Annie agreed. She felt downcast realizing how rundown the property had become, how overgrown and wild. Her father would not be pleased. "I've been thinking of hiring someone to manage the orchard," she said, offhand – saying it aloud might make it so. "It's a shame to let the apples fall to waste. Harry left me enough to be comfortable, but the extra income would be a benefit."

Ezra perked up at the thought of money coming in. "Hire the right man, and you'll be getting all sorts of profit," he said. "It looked as if there are still some to be picked. I can help with the money, once it starts flowing in."

Seeing him looking so bright and interested brought a smile to Annie. "I'm sure you can." It would be wonderful to have Ezra here to help her.

He set down the book as he stood. "Do you have records of who your father sold to before? If nothing else, I'm certain Mr. Conrad has connections. Whoever buys pears must also purchase apples, don't you think?" He gave her a look and said, "I don't know anything about apples, except how to eat them. I can certainly help you with the finances. The crop might not be good this year, but next year, it's certain to improve."

Yes, if he could be here all year and watch the money start rolling in as the apples shipped out.

"We'll hire someone," Annie agreed. "And we'll go see where the house used to be." She hoped the oak tree still stood, that the swing was still intact. Maybe the playhouse hadn't succumbed to decay. It would be nice to see it again.

Next time, they would go to see the old place, and hire a man to get the orchard back in order. It felt good to make plans. It would be wonderful to see the orchard back in order again.

"Do you think Mr. Conrad knows someone to hire?" Ezra asked. "Or maybe Mrs. Chan, she knows a lot of people. She sells apples. Or Officer Costello. He knows everyone!"

Annie smiled at his enthusiasm. "It's Sunday," she reminded. "Maybe we'll go asking after school tomorrow. It'll be your first day."

"Oh, yeah, school," Ezra rolled his eyes.

Annie looked to the book on the bed. "Are you having an easier time of the book?"

Ezra frowned down at it. "No," he responded, and then added, "Maybe, a little."

"You'll keep trying?" Annie persisted.

With a sigh, Ezra said, "Of course."

And she smiled as she left him, determined to make this last as long as she could.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

"Ezra!" Nathan called as he left the Fischer's front door.

"In the back, Nathan," he heard Ezra respond.

As Jackson came around the little shack, he found Ezra with the three Fischer children and Chaucer. Nathan chuckled. He should have known. Ezra had helped him with the initial steps required to set their father's leg, but ever since he stepped out, Nathan had been listening to the children's laughter.

Their cheerful sounds seemed to ease their father's distress.

"Chaucer was about to give his audience a bow," Ezra informed the healer, "to show his gratitude for their attention during his performance."

Nathan watched as Ezra made a gesture. The chestnut horse dipped his head, nearly touching the ground as the little children squealed in glee. When Chaucer lifted his head, Ezra made another gesture and the horse took a quick spin, and then bowed again.

The children laughed and clapped as Ezra's hand slipped into his pocket and retrieved a peppermint from a pouch, quickly rewarding his friend.

As Chaucer chomped noisily, Ezra pulled the pouch from his pocket and frowned. "Now, I have run through his entire repertoire, but I have three sweets left. Whatever shall I do with them?"

The children became extra attentive, their eyes bright and wide, yet they were all well-mannered enough to keep from begging. Chaucer, on the other hand, was a spoiled creature and tried to crowd in and snatch the bag from Ezra's hands.

"Quick!" Ezra cried, "you must dispose of these immediately before Chaucer gets them! He will be entirely unreasonable if I allow him any more!" and he handed the bag immediately to the closest of the children and lifted a hand as if to ward of the greedy horse's head. He didn't try very hard.

Lawrence took one candy and popped it into his mouth before he handed the pouch to his sister, Marie, just missing Chaucer's reaching teeth.

Marie was able to grab out one candy before she handed it off to her little sister Judith. The littlest shrieked as Chaucer moved in and snatched the bag out of her hands. The pouch was almost consumed entirely, but Ezra was quicker, removing the bag from Chaucer's teeth before it could disappear.

"Naughty boy," Ezra stated without a bit of chastisement in his voice. He gently handed the bag to Judith as he patted his horse. "There you go, my darlin'. Meanwhile, you've had enough," he told Chaucer, who banged his head hard into Ezra's chest.

The gambler was forced backward, and he had to twist to keep from landing on the littlest child. He fell hard on his butt.

The three children erupted in laughter as Ezra looked outrageously offended. Chaucer bobbed his head.

Nathan joined in the laughter as he stepped forward to help Ezra to his feet. Ezra put up a show of fussing and dusting like a hen as the children moved out of his way.

"All is well?" Ezra asked once he was done.

"Yeah, Horace is going to be okay. Just has to stay put for a few weeks. Ain't gonna be easy for him, but he has good neighbors to help him. His wife is looking after him. He's all set for now."

"Excellent news!" Ezra declared. "Should we be going? I have plenty than can be accomplished back in town."

"Yeah," Nathan replied. "I saw those city slickers on the stage this morning. They looked like they had money."

"Yes," Ezra responded. "And soon they shall have none." He gestured to the little corral. "Badger is ready for you. I've already seen to him."

Nathan smiled a thank you, and went to retrieve his horse, while the children still crowded around Ezra, wanting more. It took a few moments and a few promises of repeat performances before Ezra was able to shake himself loose of them and make his way into Chaucer's saddle.

Soon enough, they were on their way home.

Ezra reached into his saddlebag, retrieving two apples. He tossed one to Nathan. "And, Mr. Fischer will truly be okay?" Ezra asked once they were away from the children. "You found nothing else amiss?"

"Yeah, it wasn't a bad break. Shouldn't take too long to heal," Nathan said, biting into the juicy fruit.

"That's excellent news," Ezra said as he buffed his apple against his lapel. "I'd hate to think that anything might happen to that family." He turned in his saddle, to see the three children watching them from afar. He bit into the apple so that he would have a free hand, and then waved at them. They waved back.

They were sweet children, Nathan knew. They'd been born outside of slavery and would grow up in a changed land. He hope this country kept its promise to them, to be a better place than the one he grew up in.

He envied them.

Finished with his goodbyes, Ezra faced forward, retrieving the apple from his mouth. He looked toward Nathan. "Good one, isn't it?" he said. "Apples have always been my favorite fruit."

Nathan nodded in response. "Same here. Wish I could eat them all day."

Ezra made a wistful sound. "There was a time when I might have had that chance." He shrugged and took another bite. His expression changed as he looked up slyly. "Race?" he asked.

Before Nathan could form a reply, Ezra jammed the half eaten apple into his mouth and gave Chaucer a kick. The horse took off at a gallop. Nathan could do nothing except try to keep up.


	7. Inevitable

**_RATING_** _: G  
_ _ **CATEGORY**_ _: Challenge - Annie Greer Saga  
_ _ **MAJOR CHARACTERS**_ _: Ezra and OFC - Annie Greer  
_ _ **DISCLAIMERS**_ _: This is fanfiction. No profit involved. This story is based on the television series "The Magnificent Seven". No infringement upon the copyrights held by CBS, MGM, TNN, The Hallmark Station, Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp. or any others involved with that production is intended.  
_ _ **SUMMARY**_ _: It had to happen…_

 ** _AWARDS_** _:_ 2006 Mistresses Of Malarkey "Best Gen Series" Award and 'Perfect' Award _  
_ _ **DATE**_ _: Originally posted July 9, 2004_

 **The Annie Greer Saga – Part 7**

 **Inevitable**  
 _By NotTasha_

* * *

Annie Greer moved about her house, putting things right. Funny how the house was often out of order now. She'd lived for years with everything faultlessly set – not a thing out of place. It had to be that way – perfect. Since Ezra had arrived, things had changed. It wasn't that he was an untidy child, but another soul under the roof increased the amount of work. It was inevitable. Another soul complicated things.

There were extra plates on the drain board, more laundry to wash, new clothing to make, added dust tromped in by an active child. Little things were always being moved. It should have flustered her. It should have annoyed Mrs. Annie Greer to have her world upset.

With a smile, she pushed the piano bench into place and straightened the little bouquet of flowers that filled her vase. Ezra had presented them that morning – probably stolen from one of the neighbor's yards. He had come to her, damp with dew, clutching the flowers and wearing an expression that said, "don't ask." Oh, she should have scolded him – the stolen flowers, the dirty knees - but he'd looked so happy. How could she have denied those dimples?

She had smiled and he'd looked all the happier. What could she do with him?

As she rearranged the flowers, she decided to buy some new sheet music soon. Ezra was picking up the songs she taught him, and had mastered all her current music, but she had little on hand beyond Christmas carols and other nonsense.

One of Ezra's schoolbooks rested on the floor beside the pianoforte, where he'd dropped it upon returning home from his lessons on Friday. He should have taken it with him to school that morning. She picked up the tome and adjusted her glasses to read the title: "American History for School Children". There was no surprise why this particular book was left behind.

She tucked it under her arm and took it to the dining room table where he was supposed to do his homework. Maybe he'd actually read it tonight.

When autumn arrived, she'd enrolled him in the local school, where he'd been tested to find his correct grade level. The little southerner had perplexed the teachers. They'd been impressed over his ability with reading, writing and arithmetic. He already understood some French, Spanish, German and Latin, but they found large gaps in his education when it came to science and history.

He was an able reader, but had no idea about how to identify parts of speech. He could write beautifully, but couldn't diagram a sentence. He said it was all nonsense. His knowledge of history seemed to have come solely from reading literature and his geographical knowledge came only from places he'd traveled.

He was ahead of his age group in many respects, but behind them in others.

Ezra had explained his spotty education by saying that he was often traveling. When he wasn't with his mother, he was sent to stay somewhere for months at a time – with relatives and strangers. It was difficult to gain an education in such bouts.

Mostly, Annie figured, Ezra was self-taught – gleaning everything from books. Languages, he'd picked up along the way. Mathematics? "Maude has made it quite clear that I master numbers," Ezra had told Annie one night. "I have a gift for math. It's one of my God-given talents."

With luck, his school year would be a pleasant one.

But, there was Ezra's history book, unread, left beside the piano because he preferred playing the instrument to learning about how this great country was founded. "Not much to it," Ezra had bluntly told his ' _auntie_ '. "And it's as dull as a box of rocks." She'd argued, asking how the child could see the founding of America as boring. In response, Ezra had handed her the book and told her to read some of it for herself. "I'd rather read Last of the Mohicans."

Annie chuckled as she set the book on the table – no wonder Ezra didn't care for history or science! The boy was used to literature. The schoolbooks were atrociously written!

The boy, himself, was quite the storyteller. Ezra told Annie riotous tales of the adventures he'd had with his mother – the scams they'd pulled, the dangers they'd faced. His eyes would get round with excitement as he related the events. But often, once the tale was told, his mood would change to something somber and sad.

The stories often frightened Annie and she didn't want to imagine Ezra put into those difficult situations.

As she moved toward her hall mirror, Annie paused and examined her image. She wore dark blue – the fabric Ezra had chosen for her – and a pale yellow apron. She tilted her head, and twisted back and forth so that her skirt whisked across the floor. Funny how different she looked. Six months ago, when the child had been dropped at her doorstep – she was a poor old widow, drawn up and pitiable—waiting to die. Today, 27 years of age didn't seem so old. There was a whole life ahead of her.

She smiled, imagining what that future might hold. She could foresee a little family: herself, Ezra and…

A knock at the door and she brushed at her skirt, stopping her silly posing and turned to the doorway. The mailman was visible through the glass pane, waiting on her front porch.

"Good day, Mr. Ryder," she greeted as she pulled open the door.

The man smiled, presenting her with a small pile of envelopes. "Here you go, Mrs. Greer." Her mail had increased recently – with a new desire to be active, she'd rediscovered old friends – there were letters all the time. When she'd been alone in her house, Mr. Ryder had brought little to her door.

The mailman winked and stated, "I think Ezra will be particularly happy about this delivery. Is he here?"

"No," Annie replied, as she took the envelopes into her hands. "He's off on another adventure after school."

Mr. Ryder chuckled. "I hope he's staying off the church steeple this time!"

"Heaven forbid!" Annie responded with a laugh. "I think that one nearly killed me!"

"He's a scamp," Ryder decided, with a twinkle in his eyes. "Keeps you busy, I'd expect."

"He does… he definitely does," Annie continued the conversation, honestly happy about the situation.

"Aw well," Ryder continued. "I would've liked to see the boy's face. He's finally gotten that letter he was looking for. Well, good day, Mrs. Greer." And he tipped his cap before he turned to go.

Annie didn't wait for Ryder to leave her porch. She turned, letting the door clap shut as she shuffled through the letters, finding the mentioned envelope. The paper was of high quality, addressed to "Master Greer in care of Mrs. Greer" at her address. She let the other letters drop to the table as she held onto the long awaited note.

When he'd first arrived, Ezra had anxiously looked for the mail. At first, he didn't seem too disappointed to find nothing for himself, but, as weeks passed, a sullenness reached him. His disillusionment in the contents of the mail was heartbreaking to see. He'd scheduled his life to be home when the mail arrived, would rush to meet Mr. Ryder, speaking genteelly to the mailman before grabbing the letters and looking through them greedily. He'd be disappointed, but would put on a cheerful face as he handed the letters to his Auntie.

Finally, the summer over, he'd stopped waiting for Mr. Ryder, stopped rushing to paw through the letters, stopped hoping apparently. When he did retrieve the mail, he'd page through the letters, his face still and inscrutable, and then quietly pass them to Annie as if he expected exactly what he'd found. He no longer asked her about the mail when he'd been out – but he'd gazed longingly at the hall table when he passed it.

But today – today – the letter had finally arrived. The writing was immediately familiar to her – Annie had gone over that adoption certificate many times since the boy had arrived. The letter was from Maude Severt. Finally - finally, the boy's mother had written! _What had taken her so long?_

School was out. He might be down by the lake or helping Mrs. Chan in her store or ruthlessly playing marbles with the boys on Post Street or at the police station playing poker casually for match sticks with grown men. Or maybe Mr. Ryder had visited Mr. Costello earlier, and the policeman was reading to the boy from his brother's latest letter.

Aaron always called Ezra in to hear the contents of Declan's letters. Aaron's younger brother had moved to Bolivia and was running a rather ill-starred ranch. Aaron was brought to tears of laughter as he regaled the boy with his brother's exploits. "The whole country is goin' to heck in a hand basket," Aaron had commented once, "And Declan is the reason why!" And Ezra would come rushing back to Annie to tell her the stories, word for word, in the same tone and accent as the dark-haired peacekeeper. The rowdy recitation always made Annie smile.

She moved back to the table and sat down to think. The remainder of the letters lay on the table, splayed out where she'd dropped them. Again, familiar handwriting caught her eye. She pulled one letter out from the rest and stared at the envelope, addressed to "Mrs. A. Greer" with the same script that had addressed the other envelope.

After pausing a moment, she tore into the envelope, drawing out a sheet. A waft of perfume hit her as Annie read, _"Dear Mrs. Greer: I hope this day finds you happy and well, and that the child left with you is still in your custody. I may be presumptuous, but I assume that you have discovered a certain ruse perpetrated upon you. The child left in your care is my son. You have no legal ties to the boy and I am now requesting that he be returned to me. I'll be expecting him on Tuesday."_

Tuesday? Tomorrow? The letter went on, discussing a place where Maude would meet him. "Oh no, oh no," she moaned. She knew it was inevitable. Maude eventually would take her child back – Ezra would have to leave. She knew that the day would come – but it didn't stop the shock.

She lifted her head, reading the final lines, _"I hope that he wasn't too much of a burden to you as I know he can be troublesome. Certainly, you will be glad to return him to me. Until then, yours truly, Mrs. Maude Hancock"_

Annie stared at the page, unable to read any more of it. Slowly, she folded it and pressed it to the table, as if she might make it go away. She didn't even hear the front door open and didn't know Ezra was there until he felt his hand on her arm. "Auntie Annie?" he queried anxiously. "What's wrong? Are you all right?"

Annie regarded the boy, seeing his concerned glace. Smiling softly, she laid one hand against the side of his head. "I'm fine, dear Ezra," she responded softly.

Ezra looked unsure as he regarded her. "Are you sure?" he asked softly.

Annie offered a small smile. "This came for you," she stated, and drew the letter from her apron.

Grasping the correspondence, Ezra looked excited and frightened at the same time. He stared at the envelope, then brought it to his face and sniffed the perfume that emanated from it. Slowly, he lowered the letter and looked to Annie. "It's from my mother," he said softly.

"I know," Annie replied. She lifted her hand to show Ezra the letter Maude had sent to her.

Ezra looked confused as he furrowed his brow, then returned his gaze to his own letter. He turned it over slowly and then said in a low voice, "I would like to read it."

"You should," Annie responded.

"I think, maybe, I'd like to read it alone."

Annie wanted to tell him to stay with her. She wanted to be with him, to hold him if he needed it, but she said, "You can go to the parlor, or maybe up to your room if you'd like. I'll be right here when you're done."

Ezra turned slowly and walked to the stairway. Annie listened as he climbed the stairs, his steps growing more rapid until he was running down the upper hallway to his room. The door shut and she turned to the table to truly read the letter Maude had sent her.

A little more composed, she was able to make her way through it. The letter was full of excuses, telling how Maude Severt had married. She'd been busy with her new husband for the past few months. Things were difficult at first, but now, she was well settled in her new home and had convinced her husband to accept her son. The letter gave no apologies, offered no explanations as to why Maude had left the boy with her - Annie Greer, of all people. It just gave information on where to send the boy as if he were a package.

Annie waited, rereading the letter. She waited for Ezra to read his letter and waited some more. Finally, there was a sound above her head and Ezra slowly made his way down the stairs. His head was down as he approached her. He looked pale and a little shaky, but when he finally entered the kitchen, he smiled.

"Mother," he said, "Mother has sent for me." There was joy in his voice. "She wants me back!" He held the paper carefully, as if afraid to harm it. "I can go to her now."

"Of course," Annie said. "She'll be so excited to see you."

Ezra nodded, looking like a marionette. "I'll need to get a ticket for tomorrow's train," he said. "And I have to pack." He looked around the room, his eyes lighting on all the little knick-knacks that made up Annie's world. "I won't get in your way. I'll be quick and I'll be gone. You will hardly notice me." Then, softly, he added, "If you want to come to the station to say goodbye that would be okay. If you want to."

Annie reached out a hand, placing it lovingly on the boy's neck. "Oh Ezra, I'll be riding the train with you," she resolved without thinking.

Ezra told her, "But it's a long ride, Auntie Annie. It's a long way from here."

"I won't let you go alone."

"But… you'll have to come back by yourself." Ezra shook his head. "It makes no sense. You'll be alone." He seemed utterly baffled by her offer.

"I'll come with you, Ezra. I'll ride all the way with you. I'll be okay on my own when I return," she pledged. The thought of riding the train by herself should have terrified her. Harry had once promised her that they'd go see the ocean. Even with Harry by her side, she had been certain she'd be a trembling mess on the massive train. Now, she was promising this child that she'd take a daylong ride with him, and then come back alone.

For some reason, she wasn't afraid.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

They'd spent that evening together. They took a long walk around the neighborhood, letting Ezra see it one last time.

A white cat with tabby spots stretched on the wall – watching the pair walk by.

The Beverlys, who lived just up the street from Annie, were obviously saddened to hear the news. "Oh dear, oh dear," John kept saying, shaking his head. "A shame, a horrible shame."

"We'll miss you terribly, Ezra," Dolores added. "The neighborhood just won't be the same without you." And then she stood back as her husband offered Ezra some wisdom. "Annie dear," she spoke quietly to the woman beside her. "You'll be all right?"

"Oh yes," Annie said with a nod, not sounding entirely convincing.

Dolores looked sympathetic when she stated, "But you knew this day was coming. It had to happen eventually."

Annie sighed, and responded, "It doesn't make it any easier."

"We'll be here if you need to talk." And she smiled at Ezra, reaching out her arms to offer a hug.

Ezra accepted their goodbyes with grace, but seemed anxious to move on – uncomfortable with their kindness.

He brought his tin can of marbles to the boys who inhabited the far end of Post Street. They all looked at her boy with devastated expressions as Ezra let them know he was leaving. When he handed over his marbles, instead of going after the treasure like wild dogs, the can was set aside as the older boys hugged him, pounding his back in a manly manner. Each of them told Ezra that he would be missed, each wished him well and told him he'd be welcome back any time.

Their names were Stephen, Bernard, Wallace and Stanley. They may have come from ragged looking houses, their clothes may have been worn and old, but they were better mannered than some of the boys who lived at the 'good' homes. Before they parted, Wallace turned toward Annie, telling her that if she needed any help with anything, to come calling for them.

Ezra stopped by his haunts, the lake, the park, and then the church where he'd climbed the steeple. He spoke to Pastor Branson, who looked stricken at the news. Next was the barbershop where he used to linger to hear the stories. They paused outside The Meadows Casino where he'd been forbidden to enter, and a couple of the inhabitants came out to ask why they hadn't seen him in so long. Ezra smirked as he passed the Campbell's store and the patriarch came out to shake his fist at the boy. Ezra just glanced to Annie with a "don't ask" expression.

They stopped at the portrait studio and allowed the extravagance of having their pictures taken. Mr. Hayden created three daguerreotypes – two poses with Annie and Ezra together – and at Ezra's request, one of Annie by herself. Ezra obviously adored the finished product. He paid for a traveling frame for his pair of images. Annie requested a larger print and an extravagant frame with curlicues and rosebuds, meant to show off a beloved image.

The found Mr. Conrad at the post office. He'd helped them hire a man to watch over Annie's orchard and was overseeing the resuscitation of the trees. He seemed stunned by the news and gave Annie the saddest smile.

They stopped at the police station, hoping to find Officer Costello or one of the other lawmen that Ezra played poker with on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but the gentlemen were out – taking care of some disturbance outside of town. Ezra was upset that he wouldn't be able to say his goodbyes to the men who'd been so kind to him – but he hid it under a casual demeanor.

They'd found Mrs. Emma Chan and her daughter Lydia at their store. At the news, the women had fretted over him, giving him sweets and presents, hugging and kissing the boy until he was frazzled with the adoration.

"Oh, who will I find to stock my shelves now?" Emma asked. "Who will be here to help me? Who will help me with my puzzles?" She gave him more candies and spoke to him in Chinese.

Ezra answered in kind, a few clipped words, and Emma hugged him again. Lydia pressed some pretty papers into the boy's hands and told him to write to her. Then, she gave him a peck on the cheek.

Then they left Mrs. Chan's store. Ezra held tightly to his prizes while Annie walked beside him. "What did Mrs. Chan say to you?" Annie asked.

Ezra shrugged and said softly, "I didn't understand it."

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

When they returned to Annie's house, Ezra packed. His wardrobe had changed since his arrival. Gone were the perfect little suits; they'd become too short almost overnight when a growth spurt hit him. Annie sewed new clothing, delighting in the chance to make something other than dresses. The handmade items weren't as nice as the originals he had arrived with, but a growing boy needed new clothing. Besides, the sturdier wear was more appropriate for Ezra's explorations about town.

Ezra went about his bedroom, picking up his clothes, folding carefully and packing them away. The candies and little toys from the Chans were solemnly stowed. He passed his nightstand several times, looking at the stuffed bear that was set there, a sturdy little beast, hunched on all fours. Ezra didn't even reach out to touch the bruin. As Annie watched him go about packing, she realized that Ezra had decided to leave the toy behind – too childish a thing to travel with him.

 _Well,_ she thought, philosophically _, I suppose I should have figured it. He's hardly ever touched it since I gave it to him. It was to be expected. Ezra was just too old for such a silly thing from me._ But, she hadn't failed to note that the bear was angled just-so, as if it were situated to watch over him in his sleep.

They spent the evening at the pianoforte and going through their favorite books. The night drew on, and the boy leaned against his aunt, his voice growing softer as weariness overtook him. Ready for bed, Annie allowed Ezra to choose a book that he could take with him – there was room for nothing more in his bag. Wordlessly, he took Canterbury Tales, and then they climbed the stairs. Annie kept her hand on Ezra's back, wanting to be close to him, wanting him to know she was there. Then they reached the upper hallway.

"Goodnight, Auntie Annie," Ezra said softly, clutching his book.

"Goodnight, Ezra, my dear," Annie responded, bending to give him a kiss on the cheek. Ezra dipped his head, hiding his expression behind his book.

"Thank you," he said softly, hefting the book a bit.

"It's nothing," she replied, letting one hand rest on his shoulder. "Sweet dreams."

Ezra responded with a quiet nod, and they went to their rooms.

It took some time for sleep to find Annie. She stared up at the ceiling, and then turned toward the window where the curtains fluttered limply in the breeze.

 _Why… why did Maude have to send that letter? Why did she have to call Ezra back to herself? Why couldn't things have just stayed the way they were?_

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

Annie awoke early. She fixed a good breakfast to start their journey and packed a lunch to eat along the way. Ezra surprised her by awaking early as well. He stood in the dining room, rubbing his eyes, watching her work. They drank coffee together at the table, saying little. It was hard to come up with chitchat that didn't sound forced and out of place.

It was nearing time to go when Ezra reminded Annie that she'd need an overnight bag since she'd have to return the following day. Oh, Annie was upset with herself for forgetting! A woman that never traveled - she had no luggage. Ezra found her a basket, and hurriedly, Annie packed some things. Fretting that she'd forgotten something, she bustled around her room and through the house.

By the time she'd thrown her things together, and added their lunch, time had run out – they'd be unable to stop by the police station before their journey. If Ezra realized that fact, he gave no sign of it – and they shut up the house to make their walk to the train station.

They arrived just in time to purchase tickets and made their way to the platform. They pressed close as the train rumbled towards them.

The engine gasped like some living thing and Annie's heart raced – feeling its power. Ezra tugged at Annie's hand and gave her a glance before leading her up the stairs and into the coach. 

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

They reached their destination that evening in time to make their appointment. As the train came to a stop, Ezra rested his head against his aunt's shoulder, clutching her hand. He looked to Annie and said softly, "Is it okay if I want to go with her?"

"Of course," Annie responded quickly.

"But I want to stay with you, too," he stated solemnly.

"I would like that," Annie replied. "But your mother wants you now."

And the boy smiled at her, a subdued, sad smile. "I've always wanted to be with her. So many times, I've wondered why she doesn't want me. I … I love her very much," he admitted. Then he added in a low voice, "Do you think she loves me?"

Annie squeezed the boy's hand. "Of course she does. She's your mother. How could she not love you?"

Ezra's lips twitched and he said softly, "Is it okay if I love you as well?"

Annie nodded, smiling, and she gave the boy a tight hug. "Yes," she said softly into his ear. "Because I love you very much."

The conductor came down the aisle, shouting out the name of the station and pausing at Annie's row. "You'd best be goin'," he told them before moving onto the next car.

So Annie and Ezra picked up their baggage and shuffled to the exit and were met with a whirlwind of activity. The human traffic swirled around them as they stepped from the train – more people that Annie had ever seen before. Ezra seemed sure of himself, steering her in one direction and then another, getting them off the platform and into the station house.

Once within, Ezra nodded to the ticket office and said, "She'll be over there. She likes to listen to people as they buy their tickets." Then he added under his breath, "You can learn a lot about someone by how they handle their money and by knowing where they come from and where they're goin'."

They plunged through the crowd, staying close to one another as they wended their way to the ticket office. Ezra's gaze was constantly moving, searching for that familiar person. Annie, on the other hand, kept her eye on Ezra – as if she feared the milling throng might swallow him up.

Finally they burst through the worst of it and arrived at the benches near the office – where people lined up to get their tickets to travel. Ezra kept searching, his head bobbing as he tried to find his mother. Annie took a more surreptitious approach. Looking only a few feet around, happy with her near-sightedness, not wanting to find Maude.

Her hope faded as a figure turned toward them. "My boy," the southern woman greeted gaily and held out her hands.

Ezra let his bag drop to his side as he stepped up to his mother. She bent, placing a kiss on each of Ezra's cheeks.

"Darling boy," Maude cooed. "Look at how you've grown!" She grasped the lapel of his little jacket and she sighed, "But look at the quality of your clothing, child. You should know better than to travel in such common material."

"But Aunt Annie made it for me," Ezra responded quietly, looking over his shoulder at the woman who'd been his guardian for so many months.

"Ah," Maude responded. "Lovely work." And she dropped her hold on the boy's jacket and turned to greet the woman. "Mrs. Greer," she said softly. "A pleasure to see you again." Maude laughed coyly and said, "I hope you've forgiven me for that little… misunderstanding when we first met."

"Misunderstanding?" Annie repeated.

"Oh! I was under the impression that you were upset about the child I left with you. Somehow, I believe, you thought you were getting a baby?"

"No, I… well," Annie paused, looking down on the boy, "He's been a joy to me."

"But of course," the lovely woman responded, tilting her head. "And I don't want to bother you any longer. Come along, my darling boy, we have places to go." She grabbed hold of Ezra's hand as if she meant to whisk him away immediately.

"Wait!" Annie cried. Ezra said nothing, picking up his valise, but gazing toward Annie. "Please, Mrs. Severt…"

"Hancock," Maude corrected. "I'm now Mrs. Hancock. Bertram Hancock is a darling and very rich man who'll certainly take good care of me." She opened her handbag and pulled out a photograph, handing it to her son. "This is your new father," she said.

Ezra took the photograph without a word and stared at the wedding image. Annie glanced and saw Maude with a pretty smile and Mr. Hancock—an older and somewhat overweight man – beaming like he'd won a lottery.

"Mrs. Hancock, might I have a word with you?" Annie tried.

"But we must be going. I need to get tickets and we have to be off on the next train," Maude explained.

"I just need to talk to you," Annie went on. "A moment or two."

Maude smiled and handed her traveling bag to the boy. He let out an 'oof' at the added weight, nearly dropping the bag. "Darling child," she addressed Ezra. "Please wait at that bench. I'll be but a moment."

Ezra nodded and turned to Annie, his eyes beseeching. "Auntie Annie, are you leaving?" he asked.

"No," Annie told him. "I'm coming back. I wouldn't go without saying goodbye. You can count on me." She considered leaving her basket with the boy as a testament that she'd return, but he was already burdened with his own carpetbag and his mother's heavy luggage, so she kept it with her. "I'll be back," she assured.

"Come, now," Maude said brusquely, taking Annie by the arm. "Let's go someplace a little quieter." And she directed Annie through the main entrance of the station and down the block to a little coffee shop. The whole time Maude prattled on about the quality of service on the trains and the condition of life in the city.

Before Annie knew what was happening, Maude had them seated at a table and had ordered coffee and cakes. "Now, Mrs. Greer," Maude said charmingly. "What would you like to talk to me about?"

"Ezra," Annie said softly. "I want to talk to you about Ezra."

Maude laughed lightly. "So, he used his own name? It's pure foolishness on his part because I've given him a gift – the ability to change his name at will. I have used my given name for far too long and nothing else would be fitting for me, but Ezra might have changed his to anything he pleased. Still, he keeps going back to it. I should just accept the fact that I lost that little battle. Would you like to know where his given name came from?"

"What?" Annie started, unready for that question. "Well, yes, I suppose…"

"When he was born, he was really quite undersized and I was rather done in by the whole experience, so I hired a wet nurse to tend him." Maude explained. "Apparently, someone in that family decided that he wouldn't survive the night so the woman sent for her brother, who was apparently the local Catholic Priest, and they had him baptized that night! Opened a Bible and picked the first name they came to." Maude laughed as if she'd told a joke. "I'm just glad that they didn't name him Judas or Pontius Pilate! Remember this, Mrs. Greer, never leave your children in the care of Roman Catholics. They'll bless anything they can get their hands on. Oh, thank you, darlin'," Maude said, noting the arrival of their coffee and cakes. "Just set them right here. That will be fine."

"When he was born, you sent him away?" Annie asked softly.

Maude smiled condescendingly. "If you had birthed any children, Mrs. Greer, you'd understand completely. The toll taken on a woman's body by sending them out into the world is bad enough, but to add to that misery by… well, I suppose it shouldn't be spoken of in gentle company… but needless to say, a wet nurse is a thing of beauty. I managed to utilize her far beyond that though. She took care of him for almost four years."

Maude smiled brightly as she poured coffee, then added sugar and cream to her cup. "The Tollivers took care of the messy issues of childhood. Honestly, I don't think I could look at the boy if I'd had to change his diapers or teach him how to feed himself." She sipped at the cup and apparently found it acceptable. "But I did have him with me almost daily, long enough to teach him everything he needed to know. He did require proper training and he certainly is a marvelous child today."

"Yes, yes he is," Annie said, sitting forward. "I'd like. … I'd like to make you a proposition concerning Ezra."

Maude paused, holding her cup. "What kind of proposition?" Her expression became dark as she stated, "You aren't expecting to get that adoption fee back are you, Mrs. Greer?"

"No, no… I…" Annie fretted. "I would like you to consider something though. It seems… it seems…" she sighed and then got out in a rush, "It seems that he's a burden to you sometimes and I'd like you to consider leaving him with me - permanently."

Maude's smile didn't dip and she took another sip from her cup. "But, my dear, that would be preposterous. He's my son."

"Yes, but…" Annie continued, "you leave him sometimes."

"As a single woman in this world, you must understand the importance of one's freedom," Maude went on. "There are times when his presence is taxing. Having a child at one's side is sometimes like having a boat anchor around one's neck. But often, he's a great help to me. He's learned his craft well."

"I'll take him!" Annie assured. "When it's troublesome. Please, let him stay with me when you need to leave him somewhere. I'll come get him, wherever you are."

Maude raised an eyebrow and took a dainty bite of a little pink cake. Annie waited as she chewed.

"Ezra came to adore the Tollivers," Maude stated once she was ready. "They were really a very common family. The head of the household was a longshoreman or something equally trivial. Incomprehensibly, when the baby boy was in my care and had become frustrated about some trifle, he'd start crying for them." She frowned. "It was rather embarrassing really. Here I was, holding onto my precious, precious babe, and all the while he was crying out for 'Missus' or 'Mister'."

"I don't want to replace you," Annie responded quickly. "I only want to make sure he has a safe place. I think some of the places you sent him weren't the healthiest for him. He seemed rather…"

"Mrs. Greer," Maude cut her off quickly. "I think I know what's best for my boy."

Annie paused, wanting to let the woman have it – for the sadness and loneliness she so often saw in Ezra's eyes, for his disappointment of six months without word from his mother. But Annie held her tongue, knowing she'd have to charm the con woman to get what she wanted.

"I just wanted to offer my home to him," Annie tried, sweetly. "Any time you need to leave him, I'll take him."

Maude sighed as she set down her fork, looking into Annie's earnest eyes. "It just wouldn't be right," Mrs. Hancock responded. "You have to realize that it would be detrimental to his development."

"Detrimental?" Annie cried in disbelief. "How can offering him a safe and loving home be bad for him?"

Maude gave Annie a long hard look. "He needs to be sharp," she said. "He needs to be tough. It's a fierce world out there and I want him prepared for it. I believe that it's in his best interest for him to be well-educated in the ways of the world. How else is he to understand the intricacies of human interactions if he's only seen a pleasant little parlor?"

"He's just a boy," Annie responded. "He needs to be loved and cared for. Why should it matter if he knows how the world works? He doesn't need to see the evil."

Maude picked up her napkin and patted her lips. "He's got talent," she said bluntly. "I plan to train him to use it Softness and sweetness would only end up killing him. You would only hurt him in the end."

"Hurt him?"

"He's on his way to becoming something special!"

"He's special already," Annie bit out. "He's a wonderful boy and he's going to be a magnificent man. You don't need to hurt him to improve him."

Suddenly, the woman stood. "I must go to the ticket office immediately," she stated. "You'll take care of our bill, won't you, darlin'? I'll meet you back at the station and you can make your final goodbye to my beloved boy." She turned and was gone before Annie could stop her.

Annie's mouth dropped open, thunderstruck. She glanced to the items on their table – one cup of coffee minus a sip or two, a cake with one bite taken from it - nothing else had been touched. She pulled her handbag from her basket. It took a few minutes for their server to give her the amount owed, but as soon as she was able, Annie strode out into the street to catch Maude and to see Ezra one last time – to tell him all the things she needed him to hear. The boy needed something to take with him.

As quickly as she could, Annie walked up the street and back into the train station. She scanned the people lined up at the ticket window, but the lovely blonde was nowhere in sight. She turned to the bench where Ezra had been left.

Empty.

"No," Annie breathed out. She spun about, her eyes searching the milling crowd. "Ezra?" she called. "Ezra!" Nobody stopped. Everyone kept moving. She dove through them, lurching through the people and out onto the platforms. She drew in a breath as she watched one train pulling away.

She pressed onward, knowing where the boy and his mother must be. She pushed as no lady should, shoving her way through the lingering crowds, trying to reach the train before it was gone. But it was a massive thing, and once underway there was no stopping it.

She stood on the now empty platform, watching the train go. She dropped her basket and brought one hand to her throat. The other, she raised, waving. "Goodbye, Ezra," she whispered. "Goodbye, lovely Ezra." She blinked and kept her head high. "Remember me, my dear. Remember that I love you." She waved until the train was gone, and stood a moment or two longer.

Bits of paper blew around, abandoned newsprint, garbage, wrappers.

Alone, she picked up her basket and slowly moved toward the building again. She felt as if she were dragging a horrible weight. The basket on her arm became too heavy to carry, so she set it beside an empty bench and sat down.

Taking off her glasses, she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve, buried her head in her hands and wept – truly cried for the first time since Ezra came to live with her.

Even as the tears flowed, she realized, that this time she wasn't crying for herself – no, not for poor pitiable Annie Greer. She cried for Ezra. The boy had been lost.

How long would Ezra stay with his mother? How long would Maude stand for the burden of a child? Where would Ezra be left next time? She cried because she knew that Maude would never let the boy return to her – that Maude wouldn't let Annie see his smile again.

 _Oh Ezra… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't stay here._

She had no idea how long she sat there – only that the tears had stopped and the world around her was quiet.

She let the silence fill her.

She heard footfalls on the otherwise empty platform, and knew that someone was coming to check up on her. Oh, her face would be red, her eyes would puff and she'd be a horrible mess. Why wouldn't they just leave her alone!

The person came to a stop in front of her. There was no getting out of this. Ready to face the inevitable, she raised her head – to utter an embarrassed, "I'm fine," to a stranger.

But, instead of a stranger, she found the familiar dark eyes of Aaron Costello.

He stood before her, dressed in his uniform, his expression concerned, his hands held out to her. "Emma told me," the policeman uttered when he saw her perplexed and stricken expression. "I came as quickly as I could," he explained. "I had to jump the freight. Told them it was police business." And he smiled, but only slightly as he squatted down in front of her. "I'm here, Annie." And he placed his large, strong hands on her shoulders.

She let herself fall into his arms.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

The boy said nothing, leaning his head against the window and watching the landscape rush past. Beside him, Maude chatted breezily, talking about her latest husband and all the wealth that could be mined from him - a man named Higgins – not Hancock.

Finally, not getting a response from the boy, she said abruptly, "Child, there's no reason to sulk."

The boy blinked and kept his gaze on the land outside the train. "I'll miss her," he said softly. "I was happy there."

Maude drew her lips tight upon hearing that comment. Well, it was certain now. She'd done the right thing. Inevitably, if she'd left the boy under the influence of that widow, he would have turned into a softhearted little mess.

Maude loved her boy, wanted to see him succeed. If her son was to survive in this harsh world, he should learn how treacherous it was. Life in the widow's house was too soft for the likes of her child. Her beloved offspring would be killed if he didn't have a tough skin. She'd do what she could to protect him – and this was the best way she knew how. It was time he toughened up and heeded his calling.

"Darling," Maude cooed softly. "It's for the best. Do you know what she asked me when I met with her? She asked about the $300 that she paid me. She wanted it back." Maude watched as her son unconsciously brought his hand to the inside pocket of his homemade jacket. She appraised the movement unhappily. _Why didn't the child learn to hide his money better? Had he tried to pay off the Widow Greer? Foolish child!_

Yes, it was best that she removed the boy from that house. She'd left him for too long with the sickly-sweet Mrs. Greer.

And the clothing would have to go! Maude would not have her son parading about in such simple things. Maude realized that she'd have to go through her son's things, get rid of everything that would remind her boy of that place. He might try to hide them, but she'd find it all eventually. It was the best thing to do – make the separation complete.

The fewer remembrances, the better.

Cocking her head, Maude continued, "And she was still upset that she hadn't adopted a baby. It's all she wanted. She asked me why it took so long to claim you because she was rather tired of having a little interloper in her house. Once you were gone, she could finally go about getting a baby, fulfilling her dream. Can you see what an imposition you were? You know how trying you can be. A baby would have been different. She would have been able to love a baby. Instead, she'd ended up with you."

The child huddled in his jacket, staring out at the fleeing land. He moved his mouth as if to say something, but remained mum.

"She told me," Maude continued, knowing that she had to do this – make the break complete. "She told me that she did her best to make you feel at home, but all the while she was wondering when you were going to leave. She sent several letters to me over the past few months, but I didn't answer them. She was so pushy about sending you on your way, I felt no need to give her any response."

"But I liked her," he whispered. "She was … nice to me."

Maude continued, "'Nice people' are the ones you really must watch out for, my dear. Didn't I teach you that? They'll smile in your face, all the while cursing your name. You remember the Tollivers, don't you?"

The boy glanced up at her, but didn't speak. His eyes shone.

"They had been _nice_ to you, too, but they couldn't get rid of you fast enough. You were always too naughty, always a bad boy. Soon as they had the chance to dump you, they did. And who took you back?" Maude smiled warmly. "Your loving mother, of course. Your mother will always take you back. Now, Mrs. Greer was probably too ' _civil',_ and she fed you a pack of lies just to keep you calm and compliant. She was too weak a thing to tell you how she really felt. You were probably just as naughty for her as you were for the Tollivers, weren't you?"

The young man turned to the window and Maude stared at her son's back. He seemed so small in that ill-made jacket, so weak and ineffectual.

 _Oh Maude,_ she told herself, _you have a lot of work in front of you. This sort of behavior would never do – the boy needed to be tougher to survive in our line of business. I'll take care of him - I'll make him better._

"It's for the best," she repeated. "I'm glad I came to fetch you. Now we just need to set you straight again."

The boy continued to stare out the window, not seeing anything but a vivid blur.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

The house was quiet. Even with Emma at her side, Annie found the house lonely.

The day before, Officer Costello had found two rooms in a nice hotel, had stayed near her during that evening and horrid morning that followed. She didn't know what she would've done without Aaron. Then, he'd purchased their tickets for the return trip and hadn't minded at all when she didn't want to talk during the long ride.

He'd brought her home, and promised he'd do whatever he could to discover the whereabouts of Maude Hancock and her son, Ezra. He'd searched before for Severt, but now he could search for Hancock. Annie wondered if either name was real.

And moments after Aaron left, Emma Chan arrived in a flurry, telling Annie that she needed some tea.

Annie moved through the rooms as Mrs. Chan tended the fire in the stove and filled a kettle. On the dining room table, Ezra's schoolbooks waited to be returned – the history book barely touched – another aborted school year for a boy who never seemed to get his fill of anything.

Annie moved onward and paused to gaze into her little library, seeing the books they had read, and the big overstuffed chair they'd sat in. The parlor held the pianoforte – silent now without the boy. Wilted flowers filled a vase. Annie stared at the dead petals littering her piano, knowing that she should tidy it, yet couldn't bring herself to take away the flowers that Ezra had brought her only days before.

The daguerreotype they'd taken before Ezra's departure sat beside the older image of Harry. She smiled at the grouping, and reached out to gently touch the image of the boy, running one finger along his face. He was smiling, but the expression looked forced, and there was no joy in his eyes. She withdrew her hand slowly, and kept moving.

Methodically, she climbed the stairs and entered the room that the boy had used. The closet was vacant, save for the little suit he'd worn when he first arrived. He'd outgrown it, and left it behind because there'd been no room in his bag. She picked at one of the sleeves, holding it and then releasing it to let the garment swing on its hanger. She turned and moved around the room, thinking of everything that had been taken from Ezra.

As she moved to Ezra's bed, her eyes fell upon the bedside table, now topped with an abandoned box of matchsticks. She drew in a breath when she realized that the little stuffed bear was gone. She'd never seen Ezra pack it, he must have done it in secret, but it warmed her heart to think that Ezra now traveled with the bear – something soft that he could hold, and maybe he would think of her.

Annie hardly noticed Emma Chan enter the room behind her. She held a cup of tea and pressed it into Annie's hand. "Thank you," Annie said softly, and then met Emma's kind almond eyes. "Thank you for everything."

Mrs. Chan nodded and said quietly, "I'll miss him, too. He was a good boy. I said it in Chinese before he went so he'd remember it. I said, 'remember always, you are a good boy'."

Annie sighed, feeling the tears come to her eyes again as she said, "He told me that he didn't understand."

She'd find him again, Annie pledged – somehow, she'd find him.

And the two women stood in the quiet house, while somewhere a mother and child changed trains and continued on their way.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

"Hey, Ezra!" Vin shouted as he rapped on the gambler's door. "We gotta go!"

"A moment, please!" an irritated voice returned.

Vin shook the latch noisily. "Let me in! I'll getcha packed faster!"

The door was jerked open to reveal Ezra's irritated expression. "It'll take a minute! If you'd just let me be, I'd be finished already. I don't see how Mr. Larabee can expect us to be ready within such a short timeframe."

Vin shrugged and sauntered in, his bags already over his shoulder. "I'm ready. Daylight's burnin'," he said. "We gotta catch that train in Ridge City."

Ezra had his carpetbag on his bed and was stowing clothing and other what-nots. "If outlaws would only stay in one place for a while, we wouldn't have to go through this."

"Why you need all that?" Vin asked, nodding to the bag. "I got everything I need right here."

"I'm an efficient packer, taking only what I need. You will probably be wearing the same clothing for our entire trip."

"Yeah, so what of it?"

"By the sound of it, we may be gone a week."

"I brought a spare pair of drawers," Vin said as he moved through the room

Ezra sighed long-sufferingly as he picked up another shirt and put it in with the rest. "That one should fit you," he said.

"Thank you kindly," Vin said, coming to stand next to Ezra's dresser. He eyed the knick-knacks that graced the top of it, finding Ezra's pocket watch sitting open, a bottle of bay-rum, brushes, a comb, a decanter with glasses, and a small hinged frame with two photographs. He didn't remember seeing the photos before.

He picked up frame, noting that it folded shut easily for travel. The outside was well worn, battered and bent, but the interior was still fine. One image showed a pretty young woman. The other held the same woman and a child. He looked at it for a long moment, and then turned to Ezra.

"Is this you?" Vin asked.

Ezra, pulling things from his wardrobe turned to face Tanner. He froze for a moment. He seemed to be contemplating his answer. Finally, he nodded. "Yes, when I was about ten-years old." He carried the jacket and trousers to the bag, folding them quickly and efficiently.

"You don't look very happy. You're smilin' though."

"The photographer was at fault for that. One has to sit still for so long, it's difficult to look happy."

Vin watched Ezra and regarded his response. "That's not Maude," he said, pointing to the woman in the photograph.

"Obviously." Two cravats went in next.

"Who is she?"

Ezra came to a stop again, and looked toward Vin. It seemed as if he was debating a response. "That's my dear Aunt Annie," he finally said. He hadn't moved. He just stared at Vin and the images.

"You don't got a photograph of your ma," Vin pointed out.

"Well, I know what Maude looks like," Ezra said. "She sends me photographs all the time. I think I have one from each of her weddings. They're here somewhere. In any case, my mother is rather difficult to forget."

"And this one?" Vin lifted the folding frame. "Is she someone you could forget?"

Ezra looked almost as if he'd been slapped. "No," he said softly. "No, never." He moved forward to take the photographs from Vin. He regarded the images for a long moment, smiling, then gingerly, he closed the frames. "She's always there," he said softly.

Vin opened his mouth to say something else, but Ezra snatched up his watch. "Is that the time? Lord, we'll have to hurry to catch that train." He slipped the watch into his waistcoat pocket, moved back to his bed to slip the frame into a side pocket of the carpetbag and then grabbed the handle. With a swift movement, he propelled Vin to the door.

"Haste, Mr. Tanner," he said. "We must make haste!"

They left - onto their next adventure.


	8. Journey of Twenty Years

**_RATING_** _: PG  
_ _ **CATEGORY**_ _: Annie Greer Saga  
_ _ **MAJOR CHARACTERS**_ _: Ezra and OFC - Annie Greer - and all the guys  
_ _ **DISCLAIMERS**_ _: This is fanfiction. No profit involved. This story is based on the television series "The Magnificent Seven". No infringement upon the copyrights held by CBS, MGM, TNN, The Hallmark Station, Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp. or any others involved with that production is intended.  
_ _ **SUMMARY**_ _: One more Annie Greer story... 20 years have passed._

 ** _AWARDS_** _:_ 2006 Mistresses Of Malarkey "Best Gen Series" Award and 'Perfect' Award _  
_ _ **DATE**_ _: Originally posted December 25, 2004_

 **The Annie Greer Saga – Part 8**

 **A Journey of Twenty Years**  
 _By NotTasha_

* * *

She was nearly there – so very close after so very long. Her heart beat faster and she felt as excited as a child, but at 47 she could hardly be called 'girlish'.

Her legs tensed, ready to stand, ready to get up and out of the stagecoach, ready to find him. She ducked her head, trying to see out, but she'd been unable to move from the center seat and her view was hopelessly blocked.

She wanted to see him straight-away! Had he changed? Of course he had – most certainly - after all this time. Funny, though, in her mind he'd always remained that child – that lovely, funny, intense, intelligent, somber and thoughtful child. She could picture him so clearly: the way he cocked his head, the quirk of his mouth, the delicate dimples, and his expressive eyes – reflecting such mirth, such sly intelligence, such depth of feelings, such loneliness. Had he changed?

She peered around her neighbors, trying to get a glimpse of her surroundings as the coach entered the town: a saloon, a dry goods, a grain exchange, newspaper, another saloon, a jail. Bits of ribbon and once-gaudy baubles decorated the town, faded now. Everything was a little faded from long use and relentless weather. Here and there a stray bough festooned a window. Christmas came even to tiny western towns. She smiled, catching a glimpse of a church with evergreen boughs wired around the stair rails.

It was Christmas Eve and the town awaited the coming of that special holiday.

The horses slowed. The driver above shouted. Harnesses jangled and street traffic gave way. Anxiously, she tried to look beyond the richly-dressed man on her left, or the newly-married couple on her right. Straining, she searched through the figures that lined the boardwalk.

The big vehicle continued to slow, finally stopping and jerking as the brake was set. It took far too long for someone to open the door. Slowly, stiffly, the passengers moved to the door in the cramped quarters to step down and stretch their legs or to depart at the stop.

She pressed at her blue traveling dress and brown coat, aware of how terribly mussed she must look. Oh, she wished she looked fresh and perfect for this meeting, but nothing would stand in her way now. No, she wouldn't waste any time with primping.

Everyone was moving too leisurely for her liking. The dull-witted bride couldn't stop her giggling. _Silly child,_ she thought. The bride seemed too delicate a creature to be so far from civilization. _How would the pretty girl survive here?_ The young groom took his time, helping his darling from the stage.

Moving quickly to the doorway, she stepped down without even waiting for the coachman to extend a hand to help her.

Adjusting her glasses, she squinted against the winter sun – so bright and low after the confines of the coach. She pulled her coat close and immediately began her search. Along the boardwalk, the townsfolk paused to watch. The coming of the stage was the big event of the day and everyone seemed interested.

Somewhere nearby, the bride-and-groom bid a 'Merry Christmas' to Mother and were whisked away. She paid them no further mind.

Quickly, she examined the figures turned toward her, regarding each for a moment, before discounting them and continuing her hunt.

Then her gaze paused. The bright red jacket and the richly embroidered waistcoat were enough to catch anyone's eye, but it wasn't what held her attention. She let her travel bag drop to her side and smiled warmly on the familiar face.

He was leaning casually against a post, laughing as he talked to the men on either side of him. His eyes glinted with mischief and his dimples seemed even more charming than she recalled. He was dressed in a red swallowtail jacket, faded from long use, but handsomely made. A festive sprig of holly decorated the band of his black riverboat gambler's hat. His hands flashed with gaudy rings, and a gold chain and fob rested at his chest. There was no doubting his profession – a cardsharp – a man of leisure.

He looked happy - oh, he looked so happy.

He was nodding toward the rich man from the coach, obviously talking about him. One of his companions a bit taller – with long brownish hair, a battered hat and a greasy-looking buckskin jacket, was responding with a laugh. The other, a tall black man, was shaking his head, smiling. The black man leaned closer and roughly slapped her boy across the shoulder. Ezra winced theatrically and rubbed the offended part.

She was gladdened to see him like that – cheerful and between two friends - for they were undoubtedly friends. There was a companionship between them, obvious even from this distance. There he was, luxuriously dressed, smiling and chatting to two 'disreputable' characters, who leaned close to him. The buffalo hunter and the black man hardly seemed apt companions for that southern boy, yet there he was.

It was utterly perfect.

The trio kept talking about the man who'd debarked after her, but she only had eyes for her boy.

Feeling her attention upon him, Ezra's gaze shifted and their eyes met. He gave her a speculative look, narrowing his gaze as he pondered her, then his jaw dropped a fraction and his eyes widened. His complexion paled and he swayed a moment.

The attitude of the other two changed, too. The tracker came suddenly alert, and she heard him say, "Ez? Ez? You okay?"

"Something the matter, Ezra?" the other asked, sounding concerned.

And her heart fluttered as he pushed off the post, and set himself in motion, almost like a clockwork toy. He strode toward her.

Ezra - her Ezra - walked to her with a purposeful stride, his face a mix of surprise and concern, glee and terror.

She put out her hands as he came to her, wishing to throw her arms around his neck, but he took them in his own, holding her at a distance.

"Ann?" he questioned softly.

And she smiled all the wider, letting his hands drop so that she could wrap her arms around him. She pulled him close, whispering, "You used to call me Auntie Annie." And she held him, held him tightly as she'd dreamed. "Merry Christmas, Ezra," she whispered.

He smelled of lavender soap, bay rum aftershave and expensive cigars. He returned the embrace after a moment's pause, as if he'd been frightened to do so before giving in to some long forgotten instinct.

"I can't believe it," he whispered in her ear as he held her. He was strong, she noted, not as tall as she'd expected, but strong and handsome and perfect. "I can't believe it," he repeated, his voice soft and stunned.

"I can," Annie responded. "I always knew this day would happen. That I'd find you again."

She held him, loving every moment of it, loving his height, and his strength and his clean scent, wishing she could cling to him and never let him go. She heard Ezra's companions shuffle toward them, making more noise than necessary, alerting them to their presence. Ezra suddenly let her loose, stepped back and glanced at the two men uncomfortably.

Neither the black man nor the tracker spoke, but they both looked to Ezra with expectant expressions.

"Ezra," Annie sighed. At first, he'd looked so comfortable on this rustic boardwalk, now, he seemed so confused. "Just look at how you've changed! You grew up!"

"You look exactly the same," Ezra replied softly.

"Oh! Silly boy, I'm so much older and all grown up, too," Annie responded. "Dear me, how I've grown up. It's been a journey of twenty years to become what I am now. I have the gray hair to prove it. And my, this trip itself seemed almost that long."

"Care to introduce us, Ezra?" Vin asked, sidling up to his friend, who seemed too bewildered to recall the simple civility. "Is this your aunt? The one from the photograph?"

Ezra, chagrinned, coughed and stated, "Gentlemen, this is my aunt, Ann Costello." He smiled at her when he said that name. "Annie, this is Nathan Jackson, an esteemed healer, well-respected throughout these parts and an able man with the blade. This is Vin, a renowned tracker, a crack-shot and a man of astounding talents."

"Ma'am," Nathan greeted as Vin chuckled.

"I'm so happy to meet you," Annie returned, accepting Vin's hand and then Nathan's. "You're Ezra's friends?"

"Yes, ma'am," Nathan replied.

"And he's a mighty good friend of ours, too," Vin responded, trying to give Ezra wink, but the man was too rattled to notice. "Good friend to us and the others."

"Mrs. Costello," Nathan stated. "You'll want to claim your bag. They'll be heading out soon."

"Oh! Oh, thank you, Mr. Jackson," Annie cried, she picked up her travel bag at her feet. And she turned to the coach.

Vin stood beside Ezra as Nathan helped Annie. "Ya'll right, pard?" Annie heard him ask. "Ye ain't gonna keel over on me, are ya?"

"I don't understand it," Ezra responded, his voice low.

"What don't cha understand?" Vin replied. Annie glanced back, seeing him step closer to her boy, as if afraid Ezra would drop. "Lady's come to see you for Christmas."

Annie returned her attention to the stagecoach and pointed to her bag. The coachman tossed it down to Nathan.

Ezra came alongside her again. "Is that everything?" he asked, nodding to the bag in Nathan's hand.

Annie lifted the smaller case that she'd carried within the coach and nodded. "One should take only what's necessary when traveling," she responded.

"Different concept than your mother, eh, Ezra?" Nathan remarked with a grin.

"Figure there ain't no bricks in any of this," Vin added, pointing toward the bags.

"Your mother's been here, Ezra?" Annie asked, surprised.

"Once or twice," Ezra admitted.

"Three times," Vin corrected.

Annie gave Ezra a peck on the cheek. "I'm glad," she said quietly. "I'm so glad." And she took his offered arm, happy that Maude still sought out her son, that she cared about him in her own odd way.

"Yes, well…Mother…" Ezra trailed off, and then started again, telling his friends, "My Aunt Annie and Maude are two rather different people." And he patted the hand that clung to his arm. "Thank you, Mr. Jackson, for assisting my aunt." He took the bag from Nathan, with a nod. "You'll need a room?" he asked Annie.

"Why yes, I suppose I will," Annie replied. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Jackson."

"Ain't no problem," Jackson returned. "And you can call me 'Nathan' if you want."

"Nathan," she restated, "thank you." And turning to Vin, she warmly thanked him as well. The tracker touched the brim of his hat in response, and Ezra turned Annie toward Virginia's Hotel.

"I don't see why you felt the need to thank Vin," Ezra stated, keeping his voice too low for others to hear. "He's not the one who helped you."

Annie kept her arm intertwined in Ezra's, and rested her head on his shoulder. "Because he stood beside you," she told him softly.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

"A month?" Ezra questioned as soon as the door shut behind them. "Surely, you don't mean to stay in this… burg… for a week even." He looked concerned and told her, "What about San Francisco? Saint Louis? Nearby Ridge City is a far more enticing, and there's Cedar Ridge and even Skunkwater would be more appealin' to a woman such as yourself. There's a hot spring there. I can arrange for your transportation."

Annie settled her bag on the bed. "A month is hardly enough time to catch up with you."

"This dilapidated town isn't worth your time," Ezra went on.

"I only want to spend time with you," she returned. Annie briefly examined the hotel room, recalling how Ezra had quietly demanded the best room from the clerk.

The clerk, a reedy-looking man named Finn, had complied easily, showing deference to Ezra's wishes. Finn had assured that she'd be treated like royalty. "Any friend of Mr. Standish, is a friend of Virginia's Hotel," Finn had stated unquestioningly.

It was good, she thought, so good to see her boy treated with respect and care.

"I'll have fresh water sent up," Ezra said, poking his nose into the ewer on the washstand. "And a kettle for the stove so that you can freshen up adequately. And if you need anything at all, please make a list and I'll have Mrs. Potter fulfill it for you. If it can't be found in town, I'll have it sent for." He moved about, straightening a painting, opening the curtains, running a finger along the top of a dresser.

"I wish I could find better accommodations for you," Ezra commented dourly, "but I'm afraid that this is the best available. The attempt at civilization here is rather bleak."

"It's nice," Annie responded.

"I'd give up my own room to you, but that would be entirely unsatisfactory. The location of my quarters isn't suitable and you'd find it rather cramped." He brushed a hand at the bed's coverlet. "You'll be more comfortable here."

She caught Ezra's arm, pulling him away from his nervous actions. Softly, she said, "I've longed to just sit with you and talk. The rest of this is just silly trappings. I'd stay in a shed if I had to."

"A shed? Now, Annie…" Ezra said discontentedly. "I couldn't even think of such a thing for you."

She couldn't help staring at him. She never would have confused him with anyone else – those startling green eyes, that could look so solemn and then so bright - that smile that had fled him now. "My dear boy," she sighed.

"If I had known you were coming," Ezra explained. "I would've arranged for something more adequate. It's Christmas, after all, and as strange as it seems, we do have an influx of travelers." He shook his head. "Christmas, for Chri… Pete's Sake!" He grimaced. "You should be with your family."

"This is what I chose to do. As soon as I knew where you were, I had to come. My family agreed. I sent letters, one before I left and another along way. Didn't you get them?"

Ezra shook his head. "No, nothing. Mail delivery isn't always reliable out here."

"And there was the telegram?"

"We had an interruption in service. Apparently, the line is operational again, but…" And Ezra waved a hand.

Annie nodded knowingly. "Yes, I know how that can be. I received your letters," she said. She gave him a stern look. "Letters where you purposefully told me nothing and hid your location."

Ezra shook his head to wipe away her comment. "Certainly, Officer Costello…" and he paused to correct himself. "Certainly Aaron and your children would prefer you to be with them in this season. You shouldn't leave behind the ones you love," Ezra chided softly.

"They are the ones who sent me," she said. "Aaron insisted. He was so fond of you."

Ezra smiled at that, sincerely. He turned, moving toward the door. "I'll leave you to freshen up," he stated quickly. "And I'll arrange dinner. You can rest until then. I'll be back at seven. It'll be at the best restaurant in town - the only restaurant in town. Nevertheless, I'll ensure we have the best table. We'll have plenty of time to talk afterward."

"You'll explain about those letters?"

Ezra shrugged as he slipped out the door.

She let him go, because she knew, this time, she wasn't about to lose him.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

Donning a green dress, more appropriate to the season, Annie paused at the mirror to ensure that she looked appropriate. She smiled at her reflection, remembering a time long ago. Her hair, once a dull brown, was now streaked with gray. It looked better, she decided. The gray gave her character. Her glasses were a bit thicker as her eyesight worsened, but she never missed a thing. Her face was wrinkled, but it gave her a strength she had missed before. No, that smooth-faced girl was gone, replaced with something more substantial.

She smiled, proud of her looks. She took a moment to settle a hat on her head before she made her way through the door. She left the hotel, nodding to Finn at the desk, and stepped out into the crisp winter air. It was dark, but the streets were lit with little fires and merry light shone from all the windows.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," a voice rumbled as she ambled down the boardwalk. She turned to find a man sweeping church's front steps, illuminated by a lantern's light. "Lovely time for a walk," he commented.

"Yes, it is," she responded courteously.

He smiled, a delightful expression that lit his long face. Letting the broom lean against the porch, he strode down the stairs to meet her. "Did you come on the stage?" he asked, charmingly.

Annie nodded at the big man with the graying hair and the blue-gray eyes. "Yes, just this afternoon," she declared. "Are you the caretaker?" she asked, nodding to the interior of the little rough church.

The man laughed, a low rumbling sound. "Caretaker, Head-Carpenter, Roofer, White-washer, Floor-scrubber and Preacher." And he gave her a little bow. "And I really should be preparing for tonight's service."

"Then I'll leave you to your work," Annie responded. "I'm taking a walk around town before supper."

Those eyes sparkled as he grabbed a serape that had been draped over the stair railing. "Sermon can wait," he said as swung the colorful cloth over his shoulders and came beside her. "Care for an escort? I know every inch of the town."

She smiled. "I would like that," she told him.

"Josiah Sanchez," he introduced.

"Ann Costello," Annie returned, offering her hand. He took it gently, but his gaze was fixed on her left hand.

A disappointed look crossed his face as he noted the ring. "Ah," he muttered, "All of the beauties are taken."

She laughed at that comment. There was a time when she never would have considered herself as 'pretty', but her dear Aaron had changed that opinion. "You flatter me," she responded.

"I have been called a silver-tongued devil in the past," Josiah admitted with a smile.

"Seems an odd term for a preacher," Annie continued as they walked. "Not the sort that every man would expect."

"Well, I'm not everyman's idea of a preacher," Josiah told her.

"I can see that."

"And what would bring such a lovely thing as you to this town?"

She blushed at the continued sweet talk, and told him, "I've come to see my nephew."

"Nephew? Perhaps I know him. I know most of the folks in and around this town."

"He goes by Ezra Standish," Annie informed.

Josiah came to a halt, and looked at her in disbelief. Then, he guffawed, throwing back his head. "It seems that our brother Ezra has been blessed with lovely relatives all the way around. You wouldn't be Maude's sister, would you?"

At that statement, Annie frowned. "Heaven forbid!" she cried, making Josiah laugh again. Finding humor in his reaction, she added, "There's no blood between us, but I love that boy like a son."

And Josiah smiled warmly as if this was the gladdest news he'd heard in years. "He wrote you letters," Josiah stated, remembering catching Ezra at the task once. "You are very dear to him."

Before Annie could respond, a voice called out.

"Hey! Josiah!"

Annie looked up to see two men striding toward them, coming into the glow of the light. One was tall with a dark mustache. The other was shorter, with black hair and a bowler hat. "Josiah," the shorter one called again.

"Pipe down, JD," the taller one ordered, grasping one of the roof supports and swinging himself onto the boardwalk with an easy gesture. "You're offending the lady with all your yellin'."

"Am not, Buck!" JD responded indignantly. He looked strangely familiar, but Annie couldn't quite place him. "Hi," he greeted. "I'm JD Dunne, you must be Ezra's aunt. Nathan told us you'd come to town."

"Buck Willington," the other offered, extending a hand and smiled – an expression that could melt butter.

"Gosh!" JD cried. "It's great that you've come calling!'' He nodded vigorously. "Ezra's really got all the luck, don't he, Buck?"

Wilmington laughed, and gave Dunne a slap on the shoulder, "Guess that's makes him what he is, kid." He leaned closer to Annie and asked, his voice a delicious whisper, "Let me guess, Ezra was a naughty, naughty boy."

Josiah made a soft growl, and changed his position to ward Buck off. Annie laughed lightly and said, "He was a dear child, thoughtful and clever and kind."

"Ezra Standish?" Buck queried, confused.

"Well, he used the name Severt then," Annie returned.

"Severt?" Josiah repeated. "Ah, I suppose that doesn't surprise me."

Buck scratched his head. "Don't tell me he was a little angel."

"Oh no," Annie replied. "He was a boy, after all, and kept me on the hop. He got into such trouble, and I loved him just the same."

JD and Buck started talking at the same time, bombarding her with questions about her boy: did he own a dog that he'd dress up in clothing; was he always up to crazy schemes; was he always a fast talker; did she have to spank him often.

Josiah, seeing Annie's trepidation during the onslaught, shut the boys up with a sharp wave of his hand. "Enough!" he shouted. "Let the woman breathe!"

"Thank you," Annie said gratefully.

Josiah leaned close and asked, "You will be coming tonight, won't you? You can tell us all about Ezra then."

"Coming where?" Annie asked.

"The party!" JD interjected. "Well, it's not much of a party really. Just us and the guys getting together – for Christmas, you know. It'll be starting soon."

"Seven souls with no place better to be," Josiah told her. "No better place in the world."

"Oh, it won't be much of anything," Buck put in. "Probably nothin' like what you're used to."

"You have to come!" JD exclaimed excited.

Josiah suddenly seemed concerned. "It might be a bit raucous," he cautioned.

Annie laughed. "Oh," she said, "I'm not too fragile a thing. Perhaps there was a time, but I've grown a bit. Has Ezra been invited?"

"Of course!" JD shot back.

"Wouldn't be a party without him," Buck put in. "And we gotta have you there, too. It starts at about seven, but some of us'll be startin' early, no doubt."

Annie furrowed her brow. "Ezra said that we were to have dinner at seven and then we'd retire for a chat."

"Damn that boy!" Josiah muttered.

"Trying to slink out of our soiree!" Buck included.

"He must've forgotten," JD decided.

"Hell, kid," Buck responded. "We've been pesterin' him all week about it. Don't see how the fool could forget. No offence, ma'am. I can understand him wanting to spend some time alone with you, but who's gonna play the piano if he's not there?"

Annie's face brightened. "He still plays?"

"Aw, won't own up to it if you shot a poker up his…" Buck started, but was cut off by a cautionary snort from Josiah. "But we can get him to play from time to time with the right incentive."

"And what does it take to entice him?" Annie asked, smiling.

"Brandy!" all three answered as one.

"Only the best," Josiah said with a long-suffering sigh.

"I think his plan is to get us all drunk so we won't remember," Buck said in a conspiratorial tone.

"So, you'll both be coming, right?" JD asked, his eyes wide and pleading.

"I'll make certain of it," Annie responded. "Now, where would Ezra be right now?"

"Hard to say exactly," Buck commented. "Could be just about anywhere. Probably in one of the saloons, but he may be up on the roof of the saddle shop for all I know."

"He still goes up on the roofs?" Annie cried. "Oh, he did that when he was a boy."

With a chuckle, Josiah responded, "I guess some things never change." And he gazed upward to the dark rooftops.

"You looking for Ezra?" a voice sounded beside them and Vin approached, regarding Josiah's upward glance. "Seen him go to his room earlier." The tracker touched the brim of his hat. "Howdy, Mrs. Costello," he greeted. "If you want, I can fetch him for ya."

"If you show me the way, I will go myself," Annie said firmly.

The tracker nodded, offered his arm, and escorted her away from the trio. He smiled over his shoulder at them as they headed toward the saloon.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

Vin and Annie made their way up the side-stairs to the saloon. "You knew Ezra when he was small?" Vin asked as they climbed.

"He was about ten when he stayed with me," Annie told him.

"I seen a picture of you and him," Vin said. "He treasures it."

Annie smiled, remembering the photograph. Hers own hung on the wall at home, amid all the family photos.

"He stay with you long?" Vin asked.

"Only six months," Annie responded, feeling a sadness tug at her.

Vin smiled at her information. "Bet those were good days for him. Bet you done him good." He didn't look at her as they made their way up. "He needed that. Sometimes I think he had lots of sad times. Musta been nice to be with someone like you for a spell."

The words were meant to warm her, but instead they only saddened Annie. Oh, had Ezra's life been so bleak? If only she'd found a way to keep him from that sorrow.

As she walked alongside Vin, she wondered how Ezra's life could have been different if he stayed with her – would he have ever met up with these men? Would he have found this place?

"Tell me, is he happy here?" Annie asked the tracker.

Thoughtfully, Vin responded, "'Spect so." Then he looked resolved as he restated, "Yep, he is. Stake all I got on that."

"He seems so... strange," Annie told him.

Vin didn't respond immediately as they slowly climbed the stairs side-by-side. "Couldn't explain that," Vin finally stated. "Think maybe you stunned him by comin'. Ain't your fault, that," Vin said quickly when Annie inhaled sharply. "He's just a bit peculiar. I've learned not to mind."

And that, in itself, made Annie glad.

They reached the upper level and stepped into lit hallway. Then, they stopped at the first door. Vin rapped.

There was no response.

Vin sighed and, closing his fist, pounded. "Ezra!" he shouted. "Open the _gull-durn_ door! You ain't gonna make me wait here all day. I know yer in there! Come on, it's me!"

There was a shuffling inside the room, and Vin stepped back quickly, releasing himself from Annie's gentle hand. He slipped out the entry door, with a wink and a grin, disappearing as Ezra jerked opened his door.

Ezra was astonished to see who stood there. Instead of bright colors and flashing jewelry, he was dressed in a black suit, with a subdued cravat. It made him look entirely different, more austere and serious, a little less like the Ezra she'd known.

"He played me," Ezra muttered, glaring toward the stairs where Vin had disappeared.

"You wouldn't have answered the door for me?" Annie asked, hurt at this realization.

"Oh, no, no, that's not what I…" and Ezra trailed off, pressing one hand to his head. "No, it's just that…" He sighed. "This isn't a place for a decent person to visit."

"So you would have let me knock and have kept quiet?" Annie posed.

Ezra didn't respond. He let one hand drop and stood in the entry, holding the door open, looking like he'd really rather shut it.

"You used to be better behaved than that," Annie told him.

Ezra rolled his eyes and hung his head.

"Ezra?" Annie's heart seemed to clench as she came to a realization. "You don't want me here?"

"No!" Ezra was quick to counter her. "Not at all. No… It's just… you _shouldn't_ be here."

"Sounds like the same thing to me!" Annie huffed.

He groaned, turning into his room. "It's entirely different." Ezra wandered deeper into the chamber. "It's Christmas! You should be with your family, with Aaron and Bonnie, Sam and Carlotta. You shouldn't be _here_ ," Ezra continued. "At Christmas, you shouldn't be in the middle of nowhere, in some _damn gambler's_ room."

Stunned, Annie strode forward, following him. Ezra stood with his back to her, staring out the window, his hands folded tightly behind him.

She looked around the room. It was neat and small. Two kerosene lamps lit the room. A rocking chair sat in one corner and on the dresser she spotted familiar photographs. She smiled to see them. Against one wall, a small shelf was stuffed with books, so many – they were stacked on top of each other. Oh, he never stopped reading!

"Ezra," she called softly, letting the door close on the little room. "Ezra." She touched his shoulder, gently, feeling the stiffness of his posture. Beyond the window, people moved in the illuminated streets. All was bright and merry. Within, the room was cold. There was no fire in the stove. "Ezra, look at me."

He didn't move immediately, but some instinct kicked in and he obeyed her, turning slowly to meet her.

"My dear boy," she said. "My dear, lovely child. I crossed mountains to be with you. I sailed an ocean, crossed nations, continents. I've wanted to find you since the day I lost you. Did Maude tell you lies? Did she tell you that I'd never loved you?" Annie asked.

Ezra sighed. "I was young," he said. "And foolish. I realized the truth eventually."

"You started writing to me years ago," Annie said, "but the letters were too far apart and too filled with nonsense. I don't know how you found us, but you certainly made it hard to find you! Aaron and I would try to figure out some clues to your whereabouts, but you revealed nothing. He says that you purposefully covered your trail."

"I didn't want you to worry about me. I thought the less you knew about me the better. There's plenty that you didn't need to know."

She frowned at that comment. "How did you know we'd moved away if you never let us contact you?" she asked.

"I have connections."

"But I contacted everyone," Annie insisted. "Emma and Lydia received a note or two from you, but just the same as me, you wouldn't let them contact you. You must have been in touch with someone else from town. Tell me who."

Ezra smiled. "Under the guise of another, I communicated with the family who'd reveal the most about you, the family with the most limber tongues."

"Buttercup Leary?" Annie cried, and then laughed, seeing some light return to Ezra's expression. "Ezra, she's the town gossip!"

"And who would be more likely to tell me all the dirtiest details about you?"

Annie made a sour face and slapped the young man on the arm. "You shouldn't believe half of what she says!" she declared.

Ezra nodded. "Yes, that seems to be the right equation. She thought I was some fellow investigating your background and told me everything."

"What did she say?" Annie inquired, concerned.

"After I made my way through the refuse, I learned that you married Officer Costello." Ezra smiled warmly. "Aaron Costello, was always kind and decent to me, even though I realize that I was very trying. How is the dear man?"

"Perfect," Annie replied. "Oh, Ezra, he is such a good man. I love him with all my heart. And he loves me so much." She looked thoughtful. "I loved my first husband, my Harry," she stated, wanting to make that fact clear. "He was a marvelous man, who kept me safe and content. But he kept me too safe, I think – too content. I learned to be fragile. I was a little girl in my father's house, and a child still for Harry," Annie explained. "I didn't become a woman until…" and she paused, looking at the young man before her. She watched his intent expression carefully.

"…Until you married Aaron?" Ezra supplied.

And Annie shook her head. "I grew up when you came to me. You, who was too adult, and I, who was far too childish. We made an interesting pair, don't you think?"

"Truly," Ezra responded. He continued on his previous tack, revealing what he knew. "Then, Aaron's brother, Declan, was badly injured and deeply in debt. His family was in danger. Aaron went, and you accompanied your new husband. Some said it was a poor decision, all the way around."

"Buttercup talks too much!" Annie stated.

"That is true."

"I would have stayed in that old house, waiting for you," Annie insisted. "I was set on staying, and letting him go. I could wait. La Hacienda Costello was in ruin. It would take years to bring it back, but…" she drew out her sentence, and looked up at her boy. She admitted in a hushed tone, "I realized I was with child." She bit her lip. "I didn't want to be alone. I needed to be with my husband, so I went with him, keeping a secret - the only one I've ever kept from him. I was afraid he'd make me stay if he'd known."

"I'm glad," Ezra responded. "And it was the right choice. I wasn't able to go back." He smiled at her. "Tell me about the children. Mrs. Leary had only the basic information."

Annie beamed. "Oh, they're beautiful! From the moment I first held Bonnie, I was in love with her - such a precious child. It'll take hours, days to tell you all about them, and we have a month for that." Annie smiled. "Our ranch is so lovely! Oh, I adore it. Declan, silly, irresponsible Declan, needs a firm hand to guide him. His wife, Cathy, takes care of him. He's fine now and knows everything there is to know about horses, but nothing about managing men! It's Aaron that keeps the ranch hands happy. Aaron and Declan are co-owners now. Cathy and I manage the brothers. She's like a sister to me," Annie explained. "I've always needed a sister." She smiled wistfully at Ezra, "The same way you needed brothers."

Ezra nodded.

"Cathy came with me. We took the steamer as far as San Francisco, but she took another train to visit her parents."

Ezra's expression changed again as he asked, "Why did you come? How could you leave your family at this time of year? Why now?"

"Now?" Annie asked, and smiled. "I made a promise to Bonnie when she was born. I promised that I'd never leave my children, not like Maude left you. I would always be there for them. But, my youngest, Lotte, is 14 now. She tells me that she's grown up. She's the one who insisted that I come in search of you. They've heard about you all their lives and wanted this to happen. Aaron agreed."

"You traveled alone."

"With Cathy!" Annie insisted, giving him a sharp slap on the shoulder. "We're both quite competent."

"I have no doubts. How did you find me?" Ezra asked. "I tried rather hard to confuse my trail."

"Yes, you did, you naughty child," Annie gave Ezra another little slap on the arm and laughed. "It was a book," she told him. "Mr. Ryder, our old postman, is retired now. He found a book written by Jock Steele. Are you familiar with it?"

"Intimately," Ezra responded.

"Mr. Ryder wrote to me about it, saying that he thought that one of the characters sounded like you."

"Did you read it?" Ezra asked.

Annie shook her head, "No, but Emma and Lydia did. They looked through newspapers, looking for an 'Ezra Standish', finding stories from The Clarion in Four Corners."

Ezra sighed, "I never realized I was so easy to find."

"I'd been searching for you since the day I lost you. Once I had your name, there was no stopping me."

"I wish I had received your telegram," Ezra muttered. "I would have met you in San Francisco and saved you from making the arduous trip to this…hamlet."

"Oh, the train trip from San Francisco was easy, Ezra," Annie said. "The worst was behind me by then." When Ezra winced, Annie went on. "And you would have met me there in this dark suit." She touched his lapel. "And would have told me a story, all of it fiction."

Ezra sighed. "I've always enjoyed a good tale."

"You'd prefer I believed a fairy tale about your life?"

"I wish I could present you with someone in which you could be proud." He stepped away from her.

"Oh, Ezra," she sighed. "How could I not be proud of you?"

Making a disgusted movement, Ezra responded, "You always thought the best of me, always thought I was capable being something good. Instead…" And he turned his head away again, glaring at the festive activities outside the window. "Instead I became exactly what my mother wished of me: a gambler, a con artist, a thief, a charlatan - everything that you wanted to divert me from. I've lived my life all for the purpose of gathering more money - and spending it. I've cheated, lied and stolen. I've done unconscionable things. You will be so ashamed."

"My boy, my dear boy," she said softly.

"And the saddest part is that I enjoy my life. I honestly like it: the gambling, the conniving, the risks, the breaks. The life I lead in this ludicrous setting. I live for it." He let out a low sigh and muttered, "You had such great hopes for me. How could you possibly want to know someone who enjoys such a tawdry, senseless life? I'm just a two-bit gambler in a penny-ante town. How could you be proud of this? You tried so hard. How could anyone…"

A sharp rap sounded at the door and the inhabitants silenced themselves.

"Ezra," someone called from beyond the door.

Ezra's expression changed to a forced smile. "Ah, Mr. Larabee. I'm sorry, but I'm indisposed at the moment. Perhaps you can find one of the others to attend to whatever task you've decided needs immediate attention?"

"We're expecting you and your aunt downstairs - right now." And the sound of spurs jangling declared that the man had departed down the hallway, not waiting for a response.

"We'll be joining them?" Annie asked.

"It's not what you expect," Ezra responded glumly.

"How do you know what I expect?" Annie asked. "We will be joining your friends." She couldn't help smiling at the look Ezra gave her. It was as if twenty years had disappeared and that ten-year-old child looked at her, accepting her declarations as law. "You shouldn't wear black," she told him. "You looked so much better in red."

Ezra touched his suit, saying, "It's the finest quality. The red jacket is old."

"Color suits you better and you looked far more comfortable in the other jacket." She turned to the door, stating. "I'll give you time to change and I'll meet you downstairs. We'll talk when this is over." And she moved through the doorway to join the party that was forming below.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

Annie descended the stairs slowly, taking in the small group in the saloon. Josiah and Buck sat at one table, a whiskey bottle between them. Vin, JD, Nathan and a light-haired man that Annie didn't know stood near the bar, talking to a Mexican woman who tended it.

Josiah and Buck got to their feet when they saw her. "Mrs. Costello," Josiah greeted, stepping halfway to meet her. "Please, join us." And he pulled out a chair for her.

"Glad ya came," Buck added. "Ezra gonna be comin', too?"

"He'd better!" the man at the bar said, looking toward the stairs that Annie had just descended.

"After he's had a moment to change," Annie told them.

"There is no changing that boy," Josiah told her with a grin, and she took a place beside him at the table.

She felt comfortable between the men. Both were kind to her, offering to get her anything her heart desired: tea? coffee? milk? a sarsaparilla? When she asked for a whisky glass so that she could drink with them, they both broke out in wide smiles.

They fell into an easy conversation. Nathan and JD joined them, both eager and friendly in their conversations. They talked, discussing life in Four Corners – telling her all about her Ezra.

A short time later, Ezra arrived. He came, dressed as he'd been that morning with the worn red jacket and the embroidered vest. Ezra smiled congenially at his friends and came to the table where his aunt was ensconced between Buck and Josiah.

"Aunt Annie," Ezra said softly. "Wouldn't you prefer a quiet dinner at the restaurant? I've already reserved a table. There's certain to be a rabble here tonight. You shouldn't be keeping company with this sort."

Buck made a snort of disgust, but Josiah laughed at Ezra's softly-voiced comment.

"You do know what sort of place this is?" Standish continued. "It's worse than the Meadows back in your old hometown."

"It's not so bad," Annie responded, lifting her glass of whiskey. "I find it delightful. I've had excellent company."

Ezra was dumfounded. He didn't even notice that Buck had stood to offer up his chair beside the lady. He fell into it when Buck jammed down on his shoulders. He gazed at the woman he had known as a prim and proper lady. "Very well then," he muttered, motioning for a glass of his own. "When in Rome."

"Ezra," she said softly, as Josiah handed Ezra a glass. "Things are rather rough on our ranch. There aren't a lot of niceties. I've spent many evenings in the cantina with Aaron and the others. It's our only entertainment." And she lifted a toast to her boy.

A smile finally graced Ezra's face, a quirky smirk, as he watched his her take a drink of whiskey. Buck found another seat. All of them looked relaxed and happy.

Ezra reached out the glass and someone filled it. He downed it quickly. "Gentlemen," he said, slamming the shot down on the table. "I thank you for entertainin' my dear aunt while I was otherwise occupied. I hope you haven't troubled her too terribly." He tapped at his glass, waiting for Josiah to refill it. "What sort of lies have you been tellin' her?"

"Oh," Annie started, "They've told plenty of hair-raising tales. Something about you climbing onto an armored wagon with only a bottle of whiskey while a whole family of desperate men were shooting at you. How you saved the lady reporter by taking a bullet meant for her. Another about how you saved all of them from certain death by infiltrating an enemies' camp."

Ezra flashed the others a glare. "There's no point in upsetting the lady with fables, gentlemen," he muttered. "I thought this was to be a Christmas celebration."

Vin appeared near the table, along with the tall man, who'd been at the bar. "You mention a celebration?" Vin asked. "I'm ready. When's it gonna start?"

"Ezra," the other said, his voice familiar to Annie. "Figure you're the one that's going take care of that."

Ezra cleared his throat and stood, offering a formal introduction. "Mr. Christopher Larabee, I offer you my aunt, the lovely and charming Mrs. Anne Costello, newly arrived from her home at La Hacienda de los Hermanos Costello in Santa Cruz de la Sierra, Bolivia. Mrs. Costello, I offer you the dark and dangerous Mr. Chris Larabee – who is apparently wearing a red shirt for the Christmas occasion. A rare occurrence for the man-in-black. I believe you know the others already."

Larabee politely shook Annie's hand, and then pulled at his crimson shirt, as he muttered to Vin. "I don't always wear black. Heck, I didn't wear this because it was Christmas. It was my only clean shirt."

"The man needs a better laundrywoman," Ezra said conspiratorially to Annie.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Annie stated, taking Chris' hand.

"You have a long trip?" Larabee asked congenially.

"Longer than you can imagine," Annie responded. "It's been twenty years." And she smiled at Ezra. "Twenty years since I've seen him."

"Too long," Larabee confirmed, then said, "Ezra, I seem to remember a promise made."

"Promise?" Ezra echoed.

"We came to an agreement, an exchange," Josiah reminded. He reached into a deep inside pocket and pulled bottle from within. Wordlessly he set the bottle before the gambler.

"Hmmm…" Ezra voiced, picking up the brandy and regarding the label.

"That'll do the trick, right?" Buck asked, flicking an amused gaze to Annie. "It's just us in the saloon, and we've met your price."

Ezra's brow puckered. "It seems a rather skimpy bottle, considerin' the night of entertainment in store and the fact that I'll be expected to share." He cradled it like a child.

Another bottle clinked onto the table and Ezra's grin increased. "Look," he said, "twins!"

"A deal's a deal, Ezra," JD reminded.

Ezra gave Annie a long-suffering look. "They conned me into playin' the piano for them tonight, but little did they know the teacher herself would be in residence." And a slyness came to him. "Yes, gentlemen, I present to you the star herself. She'll, no doubt, be happy to assume the responsibility of providin' the music, as she is much more talented than myself."

"Ezra!" Annie scolded. "I will not have you going back on a promise."

Cringing, Ezra clutched the bottles to his chest and then sighed. "Honestly, it makes little sense to have me assume this responsibility." He looked to the others. "She has a much fairer hand than I."

Larabee snatched one of the bottles from his grasp, and before Ezra knew what was happening, Josiah grabbed the other. Larabee smiled maliciously, "Unless you're willing to give up your Christmas present, I suggest you get yourself planted at that piano and offer us some music."

Ezra let out a little whimper as the bottles disappeared from sight, and then turned a put-upon expression on his aunt. "You'll forgive me if I leave you for _most_ of the night, won't you?" Ezra asked.

Annie patted his arm. "I'd love to hear you play, Ezra. It's been so long."

"Well, yes…" Ezra muttered, pressing himself upright, then with exaggerated dignity, made his way to the little broken-down piano in the saloon. "As long as this remains among the eight of us."

"You are forgetting me," the Mexican woman said from behind the bar, smiling mischievously.

"Nine," Ezra sighed. He poked experimentally at the keys, wincing at a sour note. "It's not your pianoforte," Ezra told Annie.

"And this isn't exactly my parlor," Annie responded, sitting up straight, eager to hear him. "Play, Ezra," she encouraged. And Ezra played.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

She'd danced with all of them, as Ezra played the off-tune piano.

Her boy had shot dirty looks at the other men, but had smiled beneath those narrowed eyes. His playing was a bit rusty. He'd never be a master at it, but he played out of love for the music, and it showed. But as more people slipped into the saloon, drawn by the festivities, he managed to sneak away from the instrument and suddenly there was someone else at the piano.

"It's Leo Quail from Digger Dan's," JD explained. "I bet Ezra had him paid off ahead of time. He got in without anyone noticing."

It didn't matter, because the next thing she knew, she was dancing with her grown boy. He was so handsome, so graceful and strong. She'd remember forever how it felt to cross the saloon's floor with him. It was utterly delightful.

It wasn't a typical Christmas Eve. She was used to a church service and a quiet night with her family. This night was loud and exhilarating, with people shouting and laughing and singing. Men stomped the floor and saloon girls arrived all dressed in feathers.

All night long, she was introduced to people: Mrs. Potter and her children, Mary Travis and Billy, Jed Green and the Stoker boys, Mr. Palmer, Yosemite and Leo Quail who talked to her as he played. There was Inez Recilios, who tended the bar, along with a big bartender who arrived later, named Joe Rutledge – they kept the place hopping. There was the washerwoman, Mrs. Underwood and her frazzled-looking husband. Nettie Wells and her niece Casey entered with a flurry of 'hellos' from nearly everyone. Finn from the hotel came, along with a serious looking woman that he referred to only as 'the boss.' A broad shouldered cabinet-maker/undertaker named Ben Mack. The Juje family made their appearance, and even a sour faced man named Conklin stopped by – if only to make a statement against all the noise. He was summarily shown the door.

Annie's mind was aflutter with all the names – many of them so glad to meet her and to tell her stories about her boy.

Annie Costello née Greer's Christmas Eve was filled with light and color, laughter and music. She felt intoxicated, and it wasn't just the whiskey. As the night drew longer, she began to nod. Ezra, noting her exhaustion, came to her side and, in a moment, they slipped out the door.

The cold night air felt glorious against her flushed cheeks and she'd leaned on Ezra all along the walk to Virginia's Hotel.

Once away from the noise of the saloon, night was quiet and peaceful. It was Christmas, after all.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

A month passes far too quickly. In those days Annie had seen all of Four Corners, had spoken with nearly every resident. She'd spent many enjoyable evenings along those streets.

More than once, she'd seen her boy and the others ride out in a rush, and counted them all when they returned. Once Ezra came back with a cut on his arm. He seemed more distressed about ruining his jacket. When he tried to brush it off as nothing, Annie made certain he was marched up to Nathan's clinic and was properly cared for.

"Don't give him any nonsense!" Annie had warned as she helped Ezra out of his jacket so that Nathan could see to the wound. Later, the men laughed about the extra care she'd given her Ezra. He acted as if she was fussing too much, but she didn't mind him at all. The others, she realized, were secretly jealous.

She saw trouble erupt in town and watched them quell it as a team – her Ezra always in the midst of it. There were quiet moments and riotous ones and long boring days. There were shindigs and dances and auctions and tag sales and a flurry of distractions.

She saw her boy laughing with his friends, banding together to oppose a foe or joshing one another over some silliness. The boys teased each other, stood up for each other and sometime came to near-brawls over a trifle. It was all wonderful to see.

As always, he found the easiest way to do anything - working harder than any of them at avoiding effort. Yet, he had no trouble taking his share when trouble came calling. The others simply accepted his ways – the same way he accepted his fellows' peculiarities.

They were good together and it soothed her heart to see him so happy. Because he was happy – amidst all the trouble and chaos and hard work and shenanigans and boredom, he was happy.

But the month went by, and her visit was ending. It was over far too soon.

Each of the men said their goodbyes to her and Buck loaned Annie his horse for the ride to Ridge City to catch the train. He explained that Clyde was an easy-going animal that would give her no trouble. Annie assured him that she had a love for greys and was an excellent horse-woman.

The ride to the train-town was without incident. They rode cheerfully and contentedly, and she laughed to watch Ezra on his capricious horse. But once they arrived, Annie felt a sadness pulling at her.

Too soon, it was all over too soon. She longed to be back with her family again, she missed them desperately, but one month was not enough time with Ezra - just as six months hadn't been long enough the first time.

As they stood together at the station, Annie said, "It's like I've only just arrived and I have to go again."

"Your family needs you," Ezra reminded. "Your absence must be like a yawning chasm to them."

"And you? Where will you be?"

"Well, I'll be here." He waved a hand about. "Out in the great expanse of the West. I'd meant it to swallow me up. I suppose it hasn't quite managed that yet." He nodded to himself. "Yes, I'll be out there somewhere."

"You'll stay in Four Corners," Annie told him.

Ezra shrugged. "Perhaps," he said quietly, a sadness in his voice. "Your arrival has reminded me of many things - of everything I never became. Perhaps it's time I left. My life has been full of comings and goings. Honestly, I don't know why I stayed here so long. I don't know why they let me. I know, I wouldn't want a man such as me darkening my town if I had any say in the matter. I've done many things that cannot be forgiven. Look, the train's coming."

As the train grew larger in the distance, Annie looked at her nephew. They had spent the past month together, and she thought she'd gotten through to him, but he always was a tough nut to crack.

"Ezra," she spoke sharply. "I was a foolish, foolish girl. There were so many things that I should have done better. I never should have locked myself up in that house for five years. I never should have given up on life. Those years are gone and can never be reclaimed. I was a silly, frightened nitwit."

Ezra smiled lovingly. "No," he said. "Never. I always thought that you were so brave."

Annie looked at him in disbelief. "Me? Brave?"

"You took in a boy who was not your kin. You made a home for a stranger, and you did remarkable things. I was always amazed at your resourcefulness and your determination. Nothing would stand in your way once you set your mind to something."

Annie puzzled, remembering those days full of ridiculous fears and bouts of crying.

"You are the kindest and bravest person I have ever met," Ezra said. "I aspire to be more like you." And he smiled, full of warmth, and she had to believe him. "I've always been grateful for what you did for me. You gave me a sheltered place in a turbulent life. Those months spent with you were the best in my childhood."

"Months, Ezra," Annie commented. "Only a few months. I had a fantasy, you know. I had it all planned out at one point. I thought I'd sneak you away. I had no idea where I'd go, or what I'd do, but I thought we might just disappear – and never let Maude find you."

Ezra nodded, and said, "She would have found me. She's a clever woman. Even if you spirted me away to Bolivia, she would have found me. And you knew that." He held onto Annie's hand, stating, "And I do love her. For all her faults, in spite of what's gone on between us, and what didn't go on between us – I do love my mother. I always wanted to be with her even as I longed to be back with you. You'd best step back a foot. Train's pullin' in."

Annie nodded, gripping Ezra's hand even tighter as he picked up her travel case with his free hand.

"Promise me, Ezra, that you'll believe what I am about to say," Annie pleaded.

The conductor stepped down from the train before it stopped, and looked up and down the platform, checking for other riders. He called out the names of the next stops, ending with "San Francisco!"

Above them, the locomotive hissed as water was dropped in from the tower. Someone from the mail office hefted a bag into the rear car and received one in return. Coal dumped noisily into the tender. Ezra watched the activity with a detached expression.

"Are you ashamed of who you are?" Annie asked.

"I am what I am," he said sadly. "There's no changin' it. Ashamed? No. I'm very good at what I do. I've spent my life honing my skills. It's just, sometimes, I believe I should have followed a different path. It would have been better if I became someone that you could be proud of."

"Oh, Ezra, you told me of the wrongs you have done, but you're no longer that man. Your life led you here. Promise me you'll stay in Four Corners, because you are happy here and you're with good people who like you. If you made bad choices in the past, this place has made you better. You've made a home. I couldn't ask for more."

As the water hissed above them, Annie stated strongly, "I love you, Ezra." She stared into his trouble green eyes as she continued, "Ezra, you are loved. Not just by me, but by many."

The conductor, who'd briskly walked to the ticket booth and back, came alongside the pair and gestured toward the door. "We're leavin'," he uttered.

"Ezra!" Annie cried. "Do you believe me?"

And Ezra nodded, his expression growing softer.

She hugged him. Tightly, with all her might as if she might crush him and Ezra held her.

"I have to go," Annie cried against his neck. "Cathy will be waiting at the port."

"I know…"

He released his grip, and she stepped back, reluctantly. Ezra helped his aunt step up into the car, and released her hand as she turned to face him. "Ezra," she called above the noise of the locomotive. "I know you've been lied to, but never by me."

Ezra nodded.

The conductor was on the train again, shouting out "All aboard!" and the whistle sounded. The train started chuffing again, coughing and shuddering. People peered out the windows above them.

"We'll see each other again," she stated, clinging to the handles at the doorway as Ezra shoved her traveling cases onto the top step. "Oh, Ezra. Aaron will be so proud of you." Annie smiled warmly, and said, "I am so proud of what you've become."

And the look on Ezra's face almost broke her heart.

Beneath her, the train jerked. She held out her hands. "Be happy. Just be happy, Ezra." And her eyes started to tear as she said, "Goodbye, my dear. I didn't get to say it before and it always hurt me… goodbye…"

Ezra looked up at her as the train started to move.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

JD, Vin and Chris sat back in the saloon, content after a late breakfast at the hotel.

"Too bad Ezra's aunt had to go," JD finally stated. "She fit in pretty good here."

"Yeah," Larabee returned. "She's got family though. Can't stay away for long."

"Ezra's her family," JD included, sounding annoyed. "He's our family, too," he added.

Vin nodded. "Yeah, that's right," he stated and he smiled at JD for that comment.

JD continued, "Ezra sure seemed to like her. I think she stressed him out a bit though. Didn't know what to do around her half the time."

Vin nodded. "He gets himself tied up in knots. Thinks too much about stuff instead of letting things go naturally. He was just startin' to relax a bit."

Buck entered the saloon, pressing open the door and standing for a moment at the entry. "Anyone up for a ride?" he asked.

"Where to?" Chris responded.

"Ridge City," Buck said as he strode in. "Gotta go fetch Clyde and Chaucer." He smiled as handed the telegram to Chris. "Ezra hopped the train to San Francisco. Guess he got the ticket agent to send the note at the next station. Said he might be gone a while."

"A while?" Larabee repeated.

Buck chuckled as he scratched his head. "Well, if I'm readin' that right, looks like he's going to book passage to South America. Taking another train from there. Heading to Boliva for a spell."

Vin grinned as Chris read the page.

After a moment, Larabee summarized. "Says he apologizes for the short notice, but he'll be absent from service for an unknown amount of time. Says he'll make it up to us." Chris raised an eyebrow, but made no further comment.

JD grew concerned. "Think he'll come back?" he asked, his voice going high. "I mean, all the way to Sierra de la whatever. He might never come back."

"Naw," Vin responded as he got to his feet. "This is his home. He'll be back. We'll keep his room for him."

Chris and JD stood as well, and the three came toward Buck who was back at the door. "Ya'll comin'?" Buck asked.

"Figure we'll be home before dinner," Chris supposed.

"And I could use a ride right now," JD added.

"I was hopin' to borrow Job," Buck stated. "If yer'all comin', that means I'll have to take Nathan or Josiah's horse."

"They might want to come, too," Vin decided as he sidled up along Buck.

"Dang," Buck muttered as he turned and moved through the door. "I ain't gettin' stuck with that troublesome palomino of Yosemite's! No way in hell!" and he moved toward the livery, looking for a mount to borrow.

JD ran toward the church, in search of Nathan and Josiah.

Vin and Chris continued toward the livery at a slower pace.

"Good for him," Chris finally said.

"Yup," Vin agreed. He nodded as he said, "He won't be gone long."

Chris nodded, saying, "This is his home. He's happy here."

 **THE END**


End file.
